


Sweet Disposition

by Knightqueen



Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies), Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 100 Drabble Challenge, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brothers, Children, Community: boromir_eowyn, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Family, Fantasy, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Rating: PG13, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 100
Words: 31,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knightqueen/pseuds/Knightqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 100 short stories centered around Boromir and Eowyn's relationship as friends and lovers. Obviously AU. COMPLETE as of 9.21.2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red Handed

**Title:**  Red Handed

 **Summary:**  A ten-year-old Eowyn uses Boromir's sword for a bit of practice.

 **Prompt:**  "Exhalation"

 **Word count:**  222

* * *

The broad sword fell from her little hands, crashing to the ground with a piercing clatter that echoed through the empty hall like an alarm. Eowyn held her breath, waiting for the approach of footsteps that would seal her doom. When no one came, she let out a breath of exhalation, relieved that she would be spared a lecture - at least for today.

Her fingers wrapped about the hilt of the sword and as she moved to stand, her eyes caught sight of a pair of boots at the very entrance of the hall. She stood, in one swift motion she moved the sword behind her back and met the gaze of her silent observer. "Good morn', my lord," She said with a short bow.

Boromir eyed her curiously. "Is that my sword?" He asked, stepping out of the shadows of the doorway. Eowyn brought the sword back to the forefront, she nodded and he frowned. "And what, pray tell, was her ladyship doing with it?" He crossed the short distance between them, hand extended out to her. Eowyn turned the sword 'round so that the end of the blade faced her stomach, Boromir took the weapon from her grasp, his teeth bit the inside of his mouth in quiet relief.

With a wane smile Eowyn replied, "I was practicing, my lord."


	2. Seeking

**Title:**  Seeking

**Summary:**  Eowyn can't wait to see Boromir.

**Prompt:**  "Running"

**Word count:**  125

* * *

When she was sure no one was watching Eowyn pulled away from the group that followed Eomer and Lothíriel and made for the beach. Running at full tilt, the sea breeze at her back, Eowyn counted the seconds to when she would reach him.

The tide pulled away from the shore as if to signal her coming, he leaned forward slightly from where he sat on the sand, arms draped over his knees. He saw her and smiled at the sight of her blonde hair dancing on the air. Her feet carried her closer and closer to him. With an elated cry, she launched herself into his arms. Boromir laughed at her enthusiasm, they danced in a circle on the wet sand until they were dizzy and could no longer stand.


	3. A Gentle Touch

**Title:**  A gentle Touch

 **Summary:**  Boromir is not as rough as he seems.

 **Prompt:**  "Twisted"

 **Word count:**  181

* * *

"Ouch!" Eowyn yelped as her foot was elevated from the ground onto his knee. Boromir regarded the swollen ankle with open dismay. He raised his disapproving gaze to meet her meek one. "I've barely even touched it," He chided. Calloused fingers pulled at the shoe her foot had become incased in, Eowyn hissed softly in response to the spike of pain that ran up her leg, Boromir shushed her gently.

With surprising ease of a gentle hand, he removed the shoe from her foot. Almost immediately the pressure centered on her twisted ankle lessened to an extent, Eowyn studied the hands that rested on either side of her ankle with awe. Their eyes met, Boromir gave the young woman a small smile to which she responded to with the sudden flush of her cheeks. "Thank you," She said.

He chuckled. "Maybe next time, you'll remember not overexert yourself."

Eowyn snorted, she would hardly call attempting to flip without the use of her hands 'overexerting' herself. "Next time, I'll remember to jump with the right and not the left foot."


	4. Stationary

Title: Stationary

Summary: Eowyn reflects on Boromir's stubbornness.

Prompt: "Húrin"

Word count: 142

Boromir, Eowyn decided, was truly a credit to his house. Stubborn and unyielding in his ways, Boromir proved to be a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield and moreso in concerns to the welfare of his family. However, there were times Eowyn found his obstinate behavior perhaps the worse trait he could have acquired from the Húrin house.

Simple things turned into an over-complicated mess because he was uneasy about some of her decisions, no doubt due to his sporadic moments of over-protectiveness. She blamed his father for instilling such bolshiness in him. Yet she could not shy from the fact that the war, which he weathered so willingly as Captain-General of his city, made him more prone to his own brand of 'practicality' and mulishness, which was sometimes worse than that of his ancestors.


	5. A Conversation

**Title:**  A Conversation

 **Summary:**  Eowyn and Boromir have a conversation about her grandmother, Morwen Steelsheen.

 **Prompt:**  "Morwen"

 **Word count:**  186

* * *

"Did you know my grandmother, Morwen, was of your realm?"

"I was aware of it, yes." A beat of silence. "Why?"

A sleepy sigh fills the air, one body readjusts while the other is made comfortable again. "Did you ever meet her?"

A laugh, soft and equally as tired as her sigh was the initial response. "She was before my time love."

"And she was before mine. That does not mean she would've never visited her homeland during the time you were born."

"If she ever returned to Gondor or Lossarnach, I was too young to remember it." Another pause. "Did you not know her as you did your grandfather?"

"Not really. Mama rarely visited Edoras when I was little, so I barely saw grandmother. Thengel would visit every so often, but for whatever reason, Morwen refused to come with."

"Hmmm…"

Eowyn craned her head to regard her husband. Boromir laid up against the headboard of their bed, eyes at half-mass and prepared to close. She smiled at his dozy expression, knowing she had kept him up longer than originally intended.


	6. Question and Answer

**Title:**  Question and Answer

 **Summary:**  Little Eowyn asks Boromir about the fate of the dragons.

 **Prompt:**  "Dragon"

 **Word count:**  241

* * *

Eowyn laid the heavy book on the table with a pronounced slam, she frowned when it did not illicit the reaction she wanted from Boromir. "Why is it that there are no dragons on Middle-earth?" She asked. Boromir who had done well to ignore the eight-year old's every attempt to get his attention, finally looked up from the map he was studying. "Because they died out," He replied, his tone implying this answer should have been obvious.

"Well, yes, that's true," Eowyn replied, "But why did they die out?"

Boromir fixed the child an exasperated look. The dragon was not a particular concern of his, not since he was thirteen years of age. What little he could remember was dubious and could be questioned for accuracy. "Because - their master, Morgoth, was defeated and… erm, the Valar deemed it so."

Eowyn frowned quizzically at the answer she received. "Why would the Valar want the dragons to die?" She asked. "With their master gone, they could be reformed could not they not?"

"No, they could not," He answered. "They were made of the darkness, Eowyn. Foul and loathsome creatures whose character was born of the very evil that now command the Orcs." He paused and gave her a look. "Don't your tutors teach you these things?"

To this Eowyn beamed brightly at the young man and said, "They do. I just wanted to see if you knew."

Boromir swore.


	7. A Message

**Title:**  A Message

**Summary:**  An ill Boromir wakes to world without his family.

**Prompt:**  "Sickness"

**Word count:**  502

* * *

Boromir awoke to the early morning of a new week drained and sore, no recollection of prior events. A steady pain throbbed in the left side of his chest, which felt ready to collapse in on itself. He winced with every laborious breath he took. His throat was dry and raw, adding on to his discomfort.

The bedroom door opened to reveal Ioreth. He frowned, raising his head a little. Where was Eowyn? The old healer seemed to notice the unspoken question and said, "Her ladyship and the baby have been taken to reside in Ithilien with your brother and his missus, by order of the king." She sat on the edge of the bed and placed a cool hand upon his head forehead, over warm from fever.

"So good to see you awake, my lord. We feared the sickness would claim you as well." There had been other deaths? Boromir managed a half-hearted smile for the woman, his mind wandered back to his loved ones. Eowyn and Miriel were safe and away from the city. His mind could rest easy even if his body could not.

Ioreth rose from the bed, a happy smile on her face. "I shall go now to fetch the king, he will want to see to you personally," She reached into the pocket of her apron and revealed a piece of folded parchment, wrinkled from constant handling. He focused his bleary gaze on the parchment in her hand, curiosity piqued. Ioreth handed him the folded parchment, more or less, pressing the unseen message into his hand to spare him any need to move. "Her ladyship wrote this to you and asked I give it to you upon your awakening," Ioreth explained.

Boromir nodded his thanks to the healer. "Think nothing of it, my lord," She said before departing. The door shut with a click, Boromir lowered his head back onto the pillow, his body trembled from the short burst of energy he managed to conjure. He clung to his wife's letter for dear life, raising his arms from his side he began to open the letter addressed to him. The light of the morning illuminated the parchment in his hand, Eowyn's fine handwriting was a remarkable sight. Squinting he tried to read her message, written in obvious haste.

' _Dearest Boromir:_

_Though you lie oblivious to the world, trapped by fever, I must be quick with my letter. Aragorn has ordered that I, and everyone untouched by this sickness, leave the city. I go to Ithilien to stay with Faramir and Idis. I take Miriel with me as well. Should you wake before I return and the sickness lingers still, please know I wish to be nowhere but by your side. Stay strong my love, do not leave us yet. Our daughter would not be pleased to loose her father before her 1st birthday._

_-Eowyn'_


	8. Feminine Wiles

**Title:**  Feminine Wiles

**Summary:**  An oblivious Boromir is educated on the power of a woman.

**Prompt:**  "Bend"

**Word count:**  291

* * *

For all of Eowyn's open show of disagreement over the lack of freedom of her station and very gender, Boromir knew she was not unaware of its advantages, however strange they were to him. Upon reaching the age of 18, there was little Eowyn could or could not do to bend a man to her will or trickery, yet she did not exploit this uncanny gift as some woman did.

She didn't have to really.

From the men who attempted to woo her to her brother and cousin, they all seemed to fall under the spell of her beauty and the vulnerability of her solemn and snow white face without trying to resist it. Boromir never saw how it was possible for a woman to have such a power over a man, until on the morning of his departure from Rohan to Rivendell, she kissed him.

It was sudden and without warning, the sensation of her lips on his sent a shock down his spine strong enough to make his knees go weak. Her fingers curled around his neck, capturing his hair in the process. He wanted to push her away, knowing Eomer would not approve of this in the least, yet he found himself obliging to her feverish affection until she pulled away. Breathless and dumbstruck, he could not find it in him to be angry or glad. He was blank. With a bow and the ghost of a smile playing on her lips, she fled his bedroom as Eomer entered, oblivious to what had occurred between them.

Boromir left Edoras in a daze. He spent the entire journey to Rivendell unable to think of anything except Eowyn's lips on his and how it made his heart flutter like an overexcited bird.


	9. Bless You

**Title:**  Bless you

 **Summary:**  It's another day in the library of Meduseld and an eighteen-year-old Eowyn sees fit to pester Boromir once again with questions.

 **Prompt:**  "Ocean"

 **Word count:**  218

* * *

"Have you ever been across the ocean?" Eowyn asked one day in the library.

"No, I have not, my lady," Was the distracted reply from Boromir, who was once again lost in another archive of duty maps fetched from the shelf.

"What do you reckon is on the other side?" She pressed, slouching in her chair.

"More land, more water, more enemies or allies," He grunted, holding back a sneeze. Eowyn watched him scratch his hand with a dusty hand and shook her head in amusement. "Do you think you'll ever sail across the ocean?"

Boromir looked as though he wanted to answer her question, but instead he sneezed, which did nothing except send more dust into the air. Rising from the chair which sat across the table where he stood, Eowyn braved the dust swirling around the poor man, scooping the maps up she tossed them under the table. Without missing a beat, she took his hand and led him away from the table. By the time he was through with his sneezing fit, his hair was in a state of disarray and his eyes watered.

"You should really dust those maps off before you use them," Eowyn mused. Again, whatever he intended on saying was lost to a sneeze.

"Bless you." She grinned.

"Thank you," He sniffled.


	10. Incentive

**Title:**  Incentive

 **Summary:**  Unlike his wife, Boromir, is not a early riser.

 **Prompt:**  "Dawn"

 **Word count:**  337

* * *

At the ripe age of five, Boromir learned that the morning was not his favorite time of day. The sun rose too early for his tastes and there never seemed to be enough time to sleep the wares of yesterday away. As he grew older, his demeanor towards early rising did not change, however, he learned it was necessary in order to carry out his responsibilities. He was never a pleasant person in the morning, which made drilling and ordering the men about a excellent way of venting his frustration.

Married life did not cure him of this one bit, regardless of his brother's hopes. As blissful as it was to be able to sleep next to Eowyn, he couldn't abide by her good morning cheer and her instance that the morning was not the dreadful beast he made it be. "Once you learn to go to bed earlier, the morning will not look so bleak," She said.

"Not bloody likely," Boromir grumped. And he seemed hell bent on keeping things as they were, but Eowyn had other things in mind. On the dawn of his 44th birthday, Boromir was aroused from slumber by a gentle nibbling upon his earlobe followed by the soft lips of his wife working their way down his unusually bear jaw line toward his neck. At first he thought he was dreaming and promptly prayed the dream would never end, then he felt the bulge of her stomach press against his and he smiled. His eyes opened, Eowyn's face was only a few inches away from his, her hair cascaded over her shoulders onto his chest.

His eyes fell at half-mass and her response was a chaste on the lips. His eyes opened again. "Good morning, Eowyn," He sighed dreamily. Eowyn pulled away from his face and proceeded straddle his waist, she sighed contentedly. "Good morning, husband," She laughed.

Boromir was not a morning person, but given the right incentive, he could be very reasonable about greeting the dawn.


	11. A moment, a love

**Title:**  A moment, a love

**Summary:**  Boromir and Eowyn with their daughter.

**Prompt** : "Aged"

**Word count:**  119

* * *

Small hands touched his face as he lifted her into his arms. She was soft, softer than anything he could remember touching, a little angel made for the two of them. Curls of golden brown hair framed her round face and shined in the sun that illuminated the aged hall of the king's throne room. She had blue eyes like her mother and a smile like his mother, the lady Finduilas.

Eowyn stood beside him, adoration shone bright in her eyes as she watched father and child play with each other. She placed a hand on her abdomen. There was another child on the way. soon Miriel would have a 'little one' of her own to play with.


	12. Just a Sword

**Title:**  Just a sword

 **Summary:**  Eowyn studies Boromir's broken sword.

 **Prompt:**  12 "Sword"

 **Word count:**  190

* * *

Eowyn examined the ruined weapon with dismay. She could remember trying to master the weight of the broad sword only to fail when her arms grew weary of its strength meant only for him. Its master had caught her 'toying' with it many a time in her youth, yet his ire toward her inability to keep way from the sword never swayed her. Eventually, Boromir decided to keep the weapon at his side to prevent her from ever touching it again.

She warmly at the memory before frowning.

Laid out on his - their - bed was the two halves the broad sword, destroyed in combat during the ambush at Amon Hen. She could imagine seeing the blade fragment and crack in the center when it met the Uruk's scimitar, resulting in the jagged piece that separated from the hilt. Eowyn traced the grooves of second piece with her fingers until he took hold of her wrist and pulled it away from the razor edge. "Don't."

"I'm sorry," She whispered.

Assuming she meant the demise of his sword, Boromir shook his head. "Don't be… it's just a sword."


	13. A matter of love

**Title:**  A matter of love

**Summary:**  A misunderstanding is made in the gardens of the Houses of Healing (one sided Faramir/Eowyn).

**Prompt:**  13 "Maiden"

Word count: 376

* * *

'A fair maiden' was what Faramir had called her on the day of their meeting in the gardens. A woman lovelier than anything he had the pleasure of beholding. In the darkness of her mind, his words stirred a strange sense of hope inside of her, yet when she looked upon his face, all she saw was Boromir. Their almost identical looks were different by several defining features; where Faramir had obtained his mother's soft and kindly features, he had his father's blue eyes and ginger hair. Boromir gained only his mother's green eyes and fair hair, as to whom he took after in looks was anyone's guess.

Faramir was as graceful as Boromir described him. His way with words painted luminous pictures in her head, reinforced the idea that hope would one day become a reality and happiness would be hers once again, yet they gave her no pause until he declared his love for her. Taken aback she tried to regain her footing in the conversation. "You love me?" She asked, hair masking her expression as she turned away from him.

She could feel him smile as he said, "Yes, with all my heart," He replied. "And were you a queen, far beyond my grasp, I would still love you." He paused, his hand captured hers and squeezed gently. "Do you not feel the same?"

_No, I do not._  The words were on her tongue, dancing upon the edge where its tip and her lips met, yet she hesitated. Her heart gave pause in regard to the young man's feelings and therein laid her folly. "I do-" She turned to meet his hopeful expression. Her words caught in her throat upon catching the sound of a foot dragging across the ground behind Faramir. Her eyes tore themselves away from Faramir and focused on the entrance of the gardens. There she found him standing, mouth slightly agape in shock, his face marred by hurt.  _Boromir._

Faramir turned around in time to watch Boromir vanish back through the entrance like a ghost. "That was my brother," He murmured in pleasant surprise. He turned to meet Eowyn's blank expression with a small smile. "Have you met him?"

Eowyn could not speak.


	14. With my own Eyes

**Title:**  With my own Eyes

 **Summary:**  Not all arguments end on good terms (a continuation of  _"A Matter of Love"_ ).

 **Prompt:**  14 "Courtship"

 **Word count:**  553

* * *

When Eowyn caught up to Boromir, he was on his way out of the houses of healing, despite the knowledge that he could not leave until he was healed. He stopped before she could call to him and turned to face her. Eowyn couldn't help the flutter of her heart or instinctive reach of her hand as she came to a stop. Their hands met, she curled her fingers around his cold hand but he made no move to do the same.

"Why did you leave? I wanted to see you," Eowyn asked. For a split second Boromir's expression became hard and mocking then it morphed into a kind of hurt she rarely saw him express. "I did not wish to disturb you and my brother, your ladyship," Boromir replied in a slightly uneven tone. Eowyn blinked.  _Your ladyship?_  "Boromir, what-?" She faltered when she saw the look in his eye, the jealousy. She laughed nervously. "Surely you do not think that I- have feelings for Faramir?"

The hurt expression deepened and he pulled away from her, he pressed a hand against his forehead in exasperation. "I do," He replied. Eowyn watched him in disbelief, wondered why he tortured himself with unnecessary jealousy and anguish when there was no need to. "Boromir, please-" She made a reach for his hand again. He evaded her with ease. It was then she grew hot with anger. "Stop this! You're being ridiculous!"

Boromir turned on her, his pale complexion became flush with anger. "Am I though?" He cried. "I haven't seen you since I woke from oblivion-"

"I was in mourning for my uncle-"

"-I can't find you when Ioreth directs me to your room and when I do find you, it's with my brother as he confesses undying love for you, your hand in his!" He cried. "And to his final question as to whether or not you felt the same? You hesitated!"

"Yes, I did, but not for the reason you think!" Eowyn shouted.

"Then what was your reason?"

"I hesitated because I did not want to hurt his feelings with quick rejection!"

"So you string him about and then you reject him?" He scoffed. "You must take me for a fool."

"You are a fool if you believe I have feelings for anyone but you," She snapped. "I did not spend six years in an awkward courtship with you just so I could leave you for your brother!" By the end of her tirade, Eowyn was breathless and near tears, genuinely hurt by his accusation. There was a beat of silence, Boromir blinked and his anger and hurt dissolved into embarrassment as the truth of her words sank in. He groaned, hiding his face in the palm of his hand. "Gods," He whispered. "Gods, Eowyn, I'm sorry."

"You should be," She huffed. "You thick-headed man, you should be." Eowyn paused and eyed him dubiously. "Why did you not tell him about us?" Boromir shook his head. "There never seemed to be time to pop the news. To him, or… father."

"Well, you have all the time in the word now." Eowyn retreated down the hall from whence she came, revealing to Boromir his brother, who stood the end of it. Boromir swore under his breath.


	15. Bruises

**Title:**  Bruises

**Summary:**  Eowyn attempts to write to a wounded Boromir.

**Prompt:**  15 "Correspondence"

**Word count:**  216

* * *

Even at the age of fourteen, correspondence was not Eowyn's strongest point of communication. Nevertheless, she felt terrible and the need to convey her feelings to him were too strong to keep bottled inside her.

_Dear_ _Lord_ _Boromir:_

_It was lovely to make your acquaintance again after so long, though to be perfectly honest, I was surprised you recognized me. I hope you are in good health and that your arm is mending well. I truly did not mean to spook the horse and I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me._

_Your friend,_

_Eowyn._

No more than two weeks had passed before she received his letter. The hand writing wavered between fine and drunken, she raised in eyebrow in curiosity.

' _Eowyn:_

_You will have to forgive the handwriting. It is not easy to write, as I'm not terribly practiced with my left hand. As for any transgressions made against me, they are forgiven. I know you did not mean for what happened to happen, it was an accident. Just try to speak to me elsewhere next time and not in the stable. - Boromir._

_PS: I would be hard pressed to forget the eight year girl old who kicked my ankle under the dining table until I sported a bruise'_


	16. Blue Star

**Title:**  Blue Star

**Summary:**  Boromir finds a fallen star on the beach.

**Prompt:**  16 "Flotsam"

**Word count:**  213

* * *

Boromir found it buried in the wet sand of the shoreline, its silver chain floating just above the water amongst the flotsam of what looked like a sailboat. He puzzled over the debris for a moment, wondering what could have happened to the person commanding the boat and then allowed his attention to be drawn back to the chain. He dipped his fingers into the icy water and curled them around the chain. As he pulled the object from the water, it glittered in the light of the setting sun. The pendant was a clear blue stone. In the fading light, it reminded him of a star in a cloudless night sky.

He stood up and turned to greet Eowyn as she approached him, fixing her hair matted with sand. "What've you got there?" She asked, pulling her sleeve back up her arm. Boromir handed her the necklace, a smile playing on his lips. "A star, I think," Boromir said. Really? Eowyn paused for a second to regard the smooth stone.

It did indeed seem to twinkle in the orange sunset like a star. Boromir fixed her a goofy smile that earned him a gentle slap on the arm. Without invitation, she took his hand and they proceeded back to the city.


	17. Something Wicked

**Title:**  Something Wicked

**Summary:**  Eowyn looks to Boromir for comfort after a nightmare [post-TTT].

**Prompt:**  17 "Stopped"

**Word count:**  381

* * *

The dream seemed intent on visiting her everytime she closed her eyes. She stood upon a field of yellowing grass that stretched as far as far the eye could see, vanishing in the shadow of a ruined city and a black mountain. Hundreds, if not thousands, of Orc swarmed one particular part of the field. They scurried away in circular formation to make way for a looming figure in robes black as the night. Her uncle Théoden laid on the ground the spinning image of his decaying state, he was oblivious to the chaos around him.

Boromir kneeled before him, sword arm extended in a show of defiance while his left hand clutched at his right side, blood seeped through his fingers from a wound. His face was a picture of spent determination, yet he was not afraid of what was to come next. The shadow lunged and Boromir did the same. Their weapons clashed for a moment, but Boromir always aimed for the creature's heart.

No matter how loudly she screamed, nothing stopped. Not time, not the creature, not Boromir. His blade would strike true, but only the blow affected him. He would crumble to the ground, writhing in pain while the shadow stood unaffected by the blade sticking from his chest. It raised its sword and plunged it into the hearts of those she loved.

She would wake with a strangled scream, alone in her bedroom with the crushing darkness. The shadows seemed to come to life before her very eyes, with the intent to harm her. When she could stand it no longer, she would flee her room in search of solace. She kept down the cold halls of the golden hall until she reached his room, his door was always unlocked incase of such emergencies.

Eowyn let herself inside, immediately taking comfort in the sound of his steady breathing. She crawled into the bed like a cat, he woke with a start but calmed when he realized who it was. No words were spoken, Boromir waited until she had curled up against him before wrapping his arms around her. She would be gone from here before first light, but he took comfort in the knowledge that no nightmare would dare touch her under his protection.


	18. A loosing Battle

**Title:** A loosing Battle

**Summary:**  Boromir and the battle of raging hormones.

**Prompt:**  18 "Skirmish"

**Word count:**  455

* * *

Boromir was no stranger to skirmishes. He had spent the better part of his military career in them, fighting alongside those loyal to Gondor to keep her lands out of enemy hands. Soldiers lived and died by its unpredictable law, however, in the matter of a skirmish between husband and wife, Boromir was lucky if he survived with his pride intact.

Aragorn had warned him it would happen and he experienced it the first time three years ago, but this time seemed worse than anything he could prepare for. "You never take a word I say seriously!" She cried, tossing a pillow at him. Boromir ducked out of the way, cringing at the shrill tone of her voice. "For Eru's sake, Eowyn! I said I would help-!" Another pillow came at him, he evaded it with clumsy grace.

"I don't want your help! I'm quite - capable of doing it myself!" She snapped. Boromir attempted to get closer, she snatched another pillow off their bed and he halted, no closer to her than he had been before. "Eowyn, please calm yourself!" He pleaded. "Think of the baby!"

Only a month ½ away from her due date, Eowyn looked ready to give birth at any moment. Her swollen belly was bigger than it been when she was pregnant with their first child, Miriel. Eowyn raised her arm in a silent threat when he tried to move closer, she held back a sob. "All I want is a little help from you! Not the maids, not Arwen and certainly not Faramir or Idis. You!" She cried. "But you cannot pull yourself from those infernal council meetings to realize this!" Eowyn crumpled onto the edge of the bed and began to sob. This time when he moved away from the door, she did not attack him. She let him reach the bed and sit down next to her.

"Please forgive me. I did not mean to be so insensitive to your needs," He said. "I simply assumed you did not want to be smothered-"

"I don't," She hiccupped. "But I don't want to be ignored either, Boromir."

He nodded. "If it will please you, I will ask for a leave of absence from the king and help you in any way I can." Eowyn sniffled, tears spilled down her puffy cheeks with every blink of her eyes. "You will?"

"Aye, I will. But only if Aragorn allows it," He reminded softly. And why wouldn't he? Eowyn's sour mood dissipated like a storm cloud on a swift breeze, with a tearful laugh she pulled him into an awkward hug. Boromir breathed a silent sigh of relief, knowing the worst had been avoided.

For now.


	19. Attendances

**Title:**  Attendances

**Summary:**  Eowyn's first ale was Boromir's second helping.

**Prompt:**  19 "Draught"

**Word count:**  286

* * *

"What are you drinking?" Boromir paused in mid-sip and looked to his right. Eowyn stood next him, large blue eyes examining his tankard with a critical eye. Part of him knew Eowyn knew what he was drinking. A woman (or girl in this case) didn't live in a house dominated by men and remain oblivious to their choice of draught. The other part went on to wonder why, out of all the visitors at this party, she always singled him out as the person to bother.

"Hello Eowyn," He greeted. "Don't you have friends your age to attend to?"

Eowyn gave a small shrug. She cast her gaze toward the festivities and watched the people in the hall dance merrily with each other, not a care in the world. She spotted her cousin and smiled. "Don't you have ladies your age to attend to?" She inquired mockingly, nodding to the dance floor. Boromir started to smile at her joke but stopped when he saw Idis hurrying toward them, a bright smile on her lips. She grabbed him by arm and began to pull him away from the pillar. "Idis-"

"Dance with me!" She giggled. Boromir couldn't help the open look of discomfort that crossed his face. However, before he could object, Eowyn had taken the tankard from his hand and he was being dragged into the crowd by Idis. Eowyn watched as Idis pulled him deeper and deeper into the dancing bodies, pleasantly amused by his awkwardness. She looked down to regard the pungent beverage for a moment then raised the rim to her lips. As soon as the ale touched her tongue, she recoiled in disgust. "How awful!" She cried.


	20. Unspoken Promise

**Title:**  Unspoken Promise

**Summary:**  Eowyn watches the Rohirrim as she is left behind.

**Prompt:**  20 "Wolves"

**Word count:**  196

* * *

"Make for the lower ground! Stay together!" The frightened cries of her people urged her on to carry out the duty she was charged, even though she wanted to fight. Women and children brushed passed her in orderly chaos, clinging tightly to one another. The wolves - or Wargs - were not the sort creatures to trifle with. The beasts could tear a grown man in two with one bite and swallow a baby whole if it truly wanted to.

She paused in her retreat to look back, Aragorn caught her gaze and everything slowed to crawl. The company raced ahead of him in a blur of brown and green, unaware of his silent godspeed to the young lady of Edoras. The final rider seemed to materialize from nowhere, he tapped Aragorn's shoulder in warning, gaining the man's attention. "Boromir," She whispered.

Aragorn proceeded up the hill, revealing Boromir's grim expression. He nodded to her, conveying to her in a single movement the promise to return to her and keep her king safe. Eowyn's hair was suddenly blown into her line of sight. When she removed it from her eyes, Boromir was gone.


	21. In Between

**Title:**  In Between

 **Summary:**  A dying Boromir experiences a moment of delirium (ROTK).

 **Prompt:**  21 "Transition"

 **Word count:**  214

* * *

 _The sky is unusually blue this time of evening_ , Boromir observed with absentmindedness, unaware of the clouds circling above him. He paid no mind to the pain in his side. It might as well have been a bug bite. His mind drifted in and out of awareness. One moment he saw the bloody battlefield, the next he saw a lush green field wide and far as the limits of imagination. They were calling him home. With a blink, however, the paradise would vanish and his sleepy mind would fight the inevitable transition from life to death. The doom of men.

He could not die now, not while there was a - he paused. What was he doing by the way?

 _Wake up, damn ya, wake up!_  Boromir tried to move his limbs, he not feel anything shift around or beneath him. A shadow passed over him. He averted his cloudy gaze to the upward. Eowyn stood above him, an angel in white with a smile on her face. He laughed and pain blossomed from the wound in his side but he didn't care. "Eowyn," Boromir gasped, wishing he could raise his arm. "Eowyn." His vision began to grow dark, yet she remained as bright as ever, a light he could not follow back home.


	22. Masquerade

**Title:**  Masquerade

 **Summary:**  Boromir befriends Dernhelm, unaware of who he truly is.

 **Prompt:**  22 "Dernhelm"

 **Word count:**  182

* * *

"…Do you have a family waiting for you, sir? A wife or children?" She felt the question escape her before she could reconsider the words. To his credit, Boromir frowned at the question. Eowyn, or Dernhelm as she was known at the present, blinked curiously at his reaction. "No, nothing of that sort," He replied.

"A sweetheart then?" She pressed, scratching her nose when it began to itch. Boromir shrugged and fixed her a coy smile. "Maybe, maybe not," He said. "What-"

"Is she in the city?"

Boromir paused. "What?"

"Is she in the city? Minas Tirith, I mean?"

"No. If she's anywhere it's back with her people in Edoras." Eowyn frowned inwardly at his words.

"And you, Dernhelm? You've got a sweetheart?"

Dernhelm nodded. "Aye, she's in Edoras as well. He- I mean, she's a bit of a stubborn one if you catch my meaning. Doesn't think I should be fighting, it's not my place." Boromir patted her sympathetically the back. "Women. They are a strange brood, are they not?"

"Aye, sir."


	23. Tittle-tattle

**Title:**  Tittle-tattle

**Summary:**  Not everyone is happy about Boromir's bride-to-be.

**Prompt:**  23 "Impressions"

**Word count:**  406

* * *

Eowyn had been on her way back to the festivities when she overhead them. Three women, all of high birth or rank, huddled in a circle with their backs turned to her. "…Where on earth did he find her?" The first, situated in the middle, chortled.

"Rohan, I think it was," The third, on the left informed. "In Edoras."

"No! Surely you jest!" There was a chorus of giggles that made the tips of Eowyn's ears turn red with anger.

"Not at all," The first lady breathed. "I also hear that he supposed to have married the king's daughter, but courted his niece instead."

There a gasp from the woman on the right. "Scandalous," She whispered.

"I know!"

"Either way, no good can come of marrying women of a lesser lineage," The first grumbled. "Why, oh why didn't he choose someone of Númenórean blood?"

"Her hair is awfully ratty," The second noted with a titter.

"That's what happens when you live in a flea-bitten barn." There was a moment of silence, Eowyn felt her bosom heave violently as she tried to calm herself.

"Perhaps her impressions were made in bed? She looks sturdy enough for breeding, despite her small hips."

"Well, breeding is about all she'll be good for." They laughed as loudly as they might, Eowyn heaved out another angry breath. She wanted to do nothing more than to stab their malevolent tongues, silence their petty jealousy for all of time. She started toward them with the intention of doing just that (figuratively speaking), when a voice called out from behind her. "There you are."

Their laughing stopped. Eowyn cast a look over her shoulder as she turned to face Boromir, who stood on the top of the sloping path leading down to the sixth level of the city. He wore a bit of a carefree smile on his face, yet she noted he did not hide the concern in his eyes when he saw her severe expression.

"Are you alright, love?" He asked. Despite her mood, she nodded and looked toward the three nameless women. They watched her with open disdain and guilty fear, their eyes shifted back and forth between her and Boromir, wondering if they'd heard any of what was said. Eowyn took the hand that was offered to her, she curled her fingers around his hand and squeezed. "Yes, I'm fine."


	24. Night Watch

**Title:**  Night Watch

 **Summary:**  Eowyn watches Boromir as he sleeps.

 **Prompt:**  24 "Gondor"

 **Word count:**  202

* * *

When night had fallen and the residents of Gondor were well on their way to the land of dreams, Eowyn the closest to Boromir. There was no need to keep face, no meetings or the daily worries of the day to separate them for hours at a time. With only sleep and candle light to separate them from the darkness, they would sit next to each other in bed and speak of their day. When he slept, she watched him and wondered what he dreamt. Eowyn would stop to trace contour of his face, memorizing the way his muscles tensed and relaxed when he spoke, laughed or smiled.

He deserved a peaceful slumber, she knew he worried for her wellbeing, worried that she would wither as his mother did behind the walls of the city he called home. His concern was appreciated, but she would never allow it happen. Eowyn was no flower without soft soil and water to spread and grow. She could survive the stone foundation without complication and maintain her strength, though she longed to see home again soon.

The light of the candle died out, Eowyn slide down beneath the covers and joined her lover in blissful slumber.


	25. Visitation Rights

**Title:**  Visitation Rights

 **Summary:**  Eowyn wonders about Boromir's visits to Rohan.

 **Prompt:**  25 "Rohan"

 **Word count:**  278

* * *

"Why is that you come so frequently to Rohan?" Eowyn asked as she plucked absentmindedly on a flower from the field. Boromir offered her a half-hearted shrug. He never put much thought into how much time he spent in Rohan, when he was there he was there. Afterward it became nothing more than a nostalgic thought to think on in Gondor. "To see you brother and Theodred I suppose," He answered. "Why, you getting' tired of seeing me?"

"Oh, no, of course not," She said, perhaps a bit too quickly. She dropped the pedal-less stem and began to rub her hands together in obvious agitation, Boromir watched her with a half-smile on his lips. "I was only kidding your ladyship," He said.

"I know," Eowyn folded her hands behind her back and kicked a pebble across the meadow. "And I wish you wouldn't call me 'your ladyship'. I am your friend, am I not?"

"You are, but doesn't excuse me from using titles anymore than a servant when not in my own house," He pointed out. "They're to be respected." Eowyn grunted in disagreement, he paid no mind to it and resumed their earlier conversation. "In truth, I originally came here to court Idis, your cousin's sister."

"What happened there?" Eowyn tried not to sound too amused by the idea of Boromir courting anyone. He gave her a sheepish grin. "She lost interest in me, found someone else I reckon." He paused, shooting her a wary look. "No one except Theodred knows and she's not said anything to her father, so-"

Eowyn tapped the tip of her freckled nose. "I can keep a secret."


	26. What's in a name

**Title:**  What's in a name

 **Summary:**  Eowyn isn't particularly fond of namesakes

 **Prompt:**  26 "Namesake"

 **Word count:**  333

* * *

A namesake was a sort of unlucky creature in Boromir's family. Almost all of his immediate family (his brother, mother and father) were named after powerful, if not forgotten figures in history, of both man and elf alike. Boromir himself was named after a great steward and captain of Gondor, son of the first Denethor. He seemed to have gained the same strengths as Boromir I. However, with a likened notoriety, misfortune was not far behind. For their shared name brought with it the promise of an early death. Boromir I was wounded by Morgul-blade, which effectively shortened his lifespan to 79 years. Boromir II was almost gutted on the fields of Pelennor by a Harad soldier. He was left bed-ridden for the better part of March and April.

His mother, Finduilas, while not tethered and speared to a tree, was unable to cope with her surroundings and fell ill after the birth her last child, dying prematurely. The first Faramir (the son of King Ondoher) fell in battle alongside his family. Faramir II was nearly burned alive on a pyre by their father, Denethor II, who was persistent that his youngest was lost with the rest of the besieged city. In the end, he ended up taking his own life on the pyre meant for both of them. (Whether or not the first Denethor died prematurely, was presently unclear to Eowyn).

While she knew none of their misfortune was through any fault of their own (Denethor II being the only exception), Eowyn was not terribly keen on naming any of her future children after persons who met an ugly or premature end. So you can imagine her surprise (and dread) when she learned the namesake of her daughter, Miriel, was in fact Tar-Miriel, the usurped queen of Númenor who drowned when her city was destroyed.

Boromir, despite his assurances that no ill fate would befall their beloved daughter, would not be allowed to name their other children.


	27. The World Turned Upside Down

**Title:**  The World Turned Upside Down

 **Summary:**  [TTT] Boromir attempts to ignore his feelings for Eowyn with no success.

 **Prompt:**  27 "Trust"

 **Word count:**  419

* * *

It was the first time Boromir had seen Eowyn since his departure from Rohan no more than a year ago, and he was glad he was on horseback. Even from a distance, she made his knees weak and his heart jump. He was spared for a time, from any forward advance she might've made, given the circumstances at Edoras, but no sooner did the evacuation of the city began, she made it a point of letting him know her feelings had not changed since then. Moreover, his reaction remained the same. She was persistent on getting his attention.

From the 'accidental' brush of hands when she passed him to the secret smiles sent his way when she thought he was not looking, Boromir thought his heart would explode from an excitement he wasn't sure he could allow himself to have. He tried to focus on anything else, desperate to run from the lightheadedness he felt when she was near, but there was nothing. Nothing except the guilt that gnawed at his heart.

However, there seemed little chance of in deviating from the path Eowyn set them on and on the night of the battle of Hornburg battle, Eowyn dared to emerge from the glittering caves to take him aside and ask what was troubling him. "I cannot say, your ladyship," He spoke with a hesitation that gave her pause.

"Why not?" She frowned. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course," Was his reply, "It's just that I've been sworn to secrecy and dare not speak of it until I am given - what are you doing?" He stepped back when she leaned forward. Eowyn paused in her pursuit and met his uncertain gaze with an inviting smile. "Trust me, it'll help," She promised. There was a moment of hesitation and internal deliberation before he met her lips. Their second kiss was a hungry one, the bliss and relief that Boromir felt made him giddy. Eowyn sighed against his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck. When the kiss was broken, Eowyn kept him encircled by her arms now down at his waist. Boromir rested his cheek atop her head.

"Did it help?" She asked at last.

"Aye," He breathed contentedly. "Very much." It had helped, happiness had replaced - or at least dulled - the guilt he carried all the way from Amon Hen. The sound of a horn rang above them, reluctantly Eowyn released him and he retreated from the glittering caves, reinvigorated for battle.


	28. The friend from Gondor

**Title:**  The friend from Gondor

 **Summary:**  Eowyn searches for companionship and finds him.

 **Prompt:**  28 "Companionship"

 **Word count:**  415

* * *

Companionship. It was the one thing in the world Eowyn craved as much as the freedom to fight as an equal among men for the sake of her country. Since her and Eomer's arrival to her Uncle's house in Edoras, Eowyn tried as much as possible to remain close to her brother. Eowyn clung to her brother for dear life, never allowing him to leave her sight if she could and he obliged to her needs. Théoden proved the kind of support growing children needed in the wake of their parents passing. Theodred and Idis were like the elder siblings she never had (or really wanted), adding to the stable sense of reality needed to move on with life. As time went on and the situation became more strenuous in Rohan, Eowyn found herself spending more time in solitude than with anyone within her immediate family. She didn't blame them, however, knowing it was their duty as soldiers and lord of the realm that kept them from her (though she could hardly account for Idis' absences, other than her not wanting to be troubled by her).

To assume that she found immediate companionship in Theodred's semi-frequent visitor, Boromir, would be a silly assumption. His first impression upon her, which consisted mainly of scoffing at her desire to fight, was not at all pleasant and unless she approached him, he never paid her any attention. She was just a child after all, no one to be immediately concerned about unless absolutely necessary. Unfortunately for him, she decided he was a cure to her boredom when he was left to fend for his own. She simply enjoyed burdening him with her curiosities and the need to know how far his knowledge of the military spanned.

At first, he seemed to take it all in stride, maintaining his polite air as he answered her questions with forthright honesty and the occasional irritation. It wasn't until she started to follow him to the library did he take issue with her presence. "Don't you have someone else to bother?" He asked, having reached his limit. Eowyn shrugged, donning a look of mock-innocence. "Why? I'd much rather bother you, my lord," She smiled.

"How fortunate for me," He remarked dryly. Boromir would not become the source of 'companionship' Eowyn sought until she turned fourteen and he was suddenly a different person in her eyes. Someone other than Theodred's "friend from Gondor".


	29. Sideline

**Title:**  Sideline

**Summary:**  Boromir is hurt, yet Eowyn cannot help him.

**Prompt:**  29 "Friendship"

**Word count:**  249

* * *

The body on the bed trembled violently. She could hear the faint rattle of the bedposts knocking against the wall. The poison was acting fast, moving through his system like a wildfire. She watched her brother, Theodred and the healer with fearful eyes, watched them as they prepared to aggravate the infected wound in the thigh. The healer whispered something to Eomer who glanced in her direction. "You must leave now, Eowyn," He said.

"No," Eowyn cried, "Do not send me away! Please, I wish to help!"

"He would not want you to see this," Theodred stated in a tone that harbored no exasperation, merely pity for his cousin. Eowyn started to protest but a glare from her brother silenced her. "If his friendship means anything to you, you will leave, sister." With a scornful cry, she ran down the hall to her room, Boromir's cries of agony echoed after her. She put her hands against her ears so that she might block them out. His cries were so loud, she thought.

After a moment silence reigned, Eowyn fell asleep and dreamt of nothing. Eomer entered her room and roused her from slumber, giving her permission to return to Boromir's temporary quarters. She entered the room without hesitation, yet recoiled at the copper smell of blood. Settling herself in the chair next to his bed, she took his hand and pressed it against her face.

All she could do now was wait for him to wake up.


	30. Premature Gifts

**Title:**  Premature Gifts

 **Summary:**  One night of passion leads to a unexpected gift and a delayed wedding.

 **Prompt:**  30 "Marriage"

 **Word count:**  447

* * *

The marriage of Boromir and Eowyn took place later than either party had anticipated. Upon learning that one night together three weeks ago had resulted in a pregnancy, Boromir sought to maintain Eowyn's honor and marry quickly before she started to show. However, given the state of Minas Tirith, ruined and overrun with wounded, there was no possible way it could be done. "I've shamed you. Dishonored you and your house," He stammered out in dismay. Eowyn had to shush him before he became overwrought with the negative consequences of their actions, which were many. "You've done nothing wrong, Boromir. This is a decision we both made," She pressed a kiss to the scare above his eye. "We'll see it though together."

In the months that passed, Eowyn did her best to conceal her growing figure form curious eyes, though most (who weren't Arwen or Ioreth, who gave her spooky looks of knowing) never took notice of her stomach, too glad to see her recovered and walking about again. Boromir focused on recovering from the wound in his side, ultimately kept in high spirits by Eowyn's visits.

Eomer returned to Edoras, leaving Eowyn behind at her request, believing she wanted to be close to Théoden before he was returned to their home. When it was permitted, she would visit Théoden's resting place in the halls of the dead, wondering how he would react to her present condition. When she was unable to hide her belly or frequent sickness, she revealed the news to their friends. Their reactions ranged from utter surprise and dumb silence. "Well, congratulations my lady!" Merry declared with more enthusiasm than necessary. He nudged Pippin in the ribs. "Oh, yes, congrats indeed!" Pippin added. He frowned. "Who's the lucky man?"

"Boromir is," She answered without the slightest hesitation. "Oh...  _Oh!_ " Pippin and Merry spoke in unison. More surprise and silence followed. Sufficed to say, Faramir retreated to the houses of healing to clout his brother, an action which resulted in an argument for unnecessary discipline. When Eomer returned, she received an equally woeful earful for their premature consummation.

In the end, when crisis on both sides of the family blew over, Eowyn and Boromir were married July 18th, the day before Eomer's second departure and Théoden's relocation from Gondor to Rohan. The ceremony was simple and differed from how Eowyn (or Boromir for that matter) pictured it. She fought to keep her balance using Eomer's arm as she shuffled toward her husband-to-be. They were married by Aragorn. Boromir breathed a sigh of relief against her lips as they kissed.

Five months later on December 14th, 3019, Miriel was born.


	31. Post-midnight Snacks

**Title:**  Post-midnight Snacks

**Summary:**  Boromir is rudely awakened by a hungry Eowyn.

**Prompt:**  31 "Cater"

**Word count:**  151

* * *

"Boromir," Eowyn shook her husband for the third time that night. Boromir was upright in a second, hand unconsciously reaching for the sword that was not there. "What - what is it?" He slurred anxiously, looking about. Eowyn tensed against him and rolled onto her side, Boromir groped for the matches that were on the table to his left. "I don't mean to wake you, but-"

"Eowyn, you  _cannot_  be hungry," He moaned in dismay. She nodded sheepishly in the darkness. "Starving," She said.

"You ate three hours ago, this cannot be healthy."

"If you could secure a few apples I won't bother you again," Eowyn pleaded. "Please?"

Boromir crawled out of bed, muttering moodily to himself as he pulled a spare tunic over his head. "Why on earth do I cater to you?" He grouched. Rising up from the bed she kissed him on the cheek. "I love you."


	32. Morning Aches

**Title:**  Morning Aches

**Summary:**  Eowyn wakes Boromir, yet again, in hopes of being cured of her physical aches.

**Prompt:**  32 "Pregnant"

**Word count:**  273

* * *

Boromir felt himself laugh before waking to a dull gray morning. Opening his eyes he found Eowyn lying on her side, one arm propping her up. He felt a toe drag itself lightly across the pad of his foot, eliciting another laugh. She smiled. "Sweet dreams?" Eowyn asked, playing with his hair. He shook his head. "Didn't have one," Yawned. "How are your ankles?"

"Swollen still."

"Your back?"

"Still hurts."

He paused. "The baby?"

"The only thing within me still moving," She sighed.

"He's uncomfortable too?" Boromir regarded her pregnant physique with dismay, wondering what he could do. "Yes, she is," Eowyn amended. "She's been flopping about like a fish since last night." Boromir pulled her into a hug. Eowyn wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his. "I'm sorry," He said, genuinely apologetic.

Instead of replying to his misplaced guilt, she asked, "Do you wish to speak to her?" Boromir looked puzzled for a moment then scooted down so he was leveled with her stomach. He examined the stretch marks with curiosity then pressed a finger against her bellybutton, she laughed and the baby thumped against his callused finger, causing him to recoil in surprise. "Bloody hell. Is that what she does all day?" Boromir chuckled, unaware he regarded the child as 'she'. Eowyn nodded then winced. Focusing back on the stomach he began to speak. "Uh, hiya, it's your father little one. Be a good sport and let your mother rest a while."

There was a moment where they held they're breath. The baby fell still and Eowyn let out a relieved sigh.


	33. Don't Panic

**Title:**  Don't Panic

 **Summary:**  Eowyn hates February, Boromir isn't terribly keen on March.

 **Prompt:**  33 "Scars"

 **Word count:**  262

* * *

It was a shared responsibility, one the few they had together. With the end of the war, they braced themselves for what was never truly acknowledged with the enemy still afoot. The nightmares from scars left behind by the ravages of war. The first time it happened, Eowyn could not wake (or shake) him from the memory he fell prey to. She called out him until he bolted upright, crashing against her and screamed, "I'm sorry!" He crumbled against her and sobbed into her shoulder. "I should've been stronger, I shouldn't have let it happen-" There was nothing Eowyn could say that to convince him otherwise. She held him until he exhausted himself into sleep and cursed the memory of the ring.

With Eowyn it was different. She never made a sound when she had a nightmare. Boromir would often find himself alone in bed, her spot gone cold from her absence. Groggily, he would make the journey from the bedroom to the library where he would find her curled in a chair, observing her uncle's helmet placed adopt a shelf housing most of the known history of his country and hers. Tears spilled down her face and when he was allowed to, he wiped from her cheeks. Rising from the chair she followed him back to their bedroom where the sleep would evade them until the sun rose.

"It's not your fault," He would tell her.

"It's not yours either," She rebuked softly, playing with the plain sliver band on his finger.


	34. A short-lived Argument

**Title:**  A short-lived Argument

**Summary:**  Eowyn believes her ankle healed when Boromir finds her in the library.

**Prompt:**  34 "Healing"

**Word count:**  220

* * *

When Boromir walked into the library, he did not expect to find a limping Eowyn attempting to reach a book beyond the length of her arm. "Oi," He cried, startling her away from the shelf. "You shouldn't be up." Eowyn pouted slightly as he made his way over to her. "I beg to differ, sir," She huffed.

Boromir fetched the book she wanted from the top shelf, turning he gave her a pointed look. "Is that right? That ankle won't heal properly if you don't keep off it or elevated."

"It's healing quiet nicely, thank you," Eowyn protested, reaching for the book. Boromir moved it out of her reach and did so again when she tried to take it from behind. "Give me the book, Boromir!" She demanded. "Go back to your room and maybe I'll give you- Oi!" Boromir had barely seen her hand lash out and take the leather bound book. Eowyn smiled wickedly in triumph only to step on the wrong foot. Her leg caved under her in an instant, Boromir caught her before she fell to the ground, ignoring her cry of pain as he scooped her up into his arms. Eowyn blinked back tears at the reproving expression on his face. "Alright, perhaps it's not completely healed," She confessed.


	35. Warning Signs

**Title:**  Warning Signs

 **Summary:**  Eowyn tells Boromir of a familiar dream.

 **Prompt:**  35 "Sixth Sense"

 **Word count:**  206

* * *

"You dreamt of Númenor's destruction?" Boromir asked, pulling the cloth tight around Léod's waist. Eowyn regarded her husband's handiwork over his shoulder with a critical eye and nodded. Lifting the baby from the changing table, he turned to watch his wife breastfeed Firiel. She met his appreciative gaze with a worried one. "It's the first time I've had it since the war. What do you think it means?"

He shrugged. "I couldn't tell ya. Faramir has had the dream since childhood and I do not believe he's figured it's meaning yet." He gave Eowyn a teasing smile. "You never told me you had a sixth sense my dear." Eowyn smiled bashfully at his apparent pride. "You are too generous my lord. I possess no such gift of sight, merely a troubled mind."

She looked toward the window. The November air seemed colder than ever. Eowyn worried for her family and friends but could not understand the reason or cause for it. She focused her attention back to her husband who stood up a little straighter out of habit. "Perhaps it was just a dream."

"Perhaps," He said, hating how sour the word tasted on his tongue.


	36. Happiness Hit him

**Title:**  Happiness Hit him

 **Summary:**  In which Boromir has a strange dream where Eowyn is a mermaid.

 **Prompt:**  36 "Sweets"

 **Word count:**  351

* * *

It was decidedly a bizarre dream, most likely from a mixture of ale and the consumption of one too many sweets. He stood at the head of the city, holding a strange object up to his eye, one that magnified the vision of one eye ten or twenty times. Minas Tirith sailed across the fields Pelennor as though it was the wide-open sea and it was a ship. His foot tapped contentedly on the smooth stone surface as he swiveled around to observe the rest of the landscape.

Behind him, Aragorn and Arwen stood at the helm (which gave him pause. Wasn't he supposed to be the captain of the ship in his dream?), laughing merrily at something as they steered. Faramir sat happily in the lookout above, reading a book while his wife, Idis, sat upon the mast and threaded the sail together as it was frayed by the wind. Above him in the sky, he could see Lothíriel and Eomer riding about happily on the backs of eagle, unaware of the sailing city below them. Finally, he lowered the strange spyglass from his eye and looked down. Eowyn sat next him, arms wrapped around his legs, her long lemon colored fishtail curled under her.

"Boromir?"

He opened his eyes and was welcomed by a throbbing pain in his head. Eowyn hovered over him, worry etched into her features. His eyes swiveled down to her waist. She was missing the strange appendage that startled him awake. He gave a half-sigh. "What happened?" He moaned when she helped him sit up a little. "I think you might've had a bad reaction to the peppermint in your ale," Eowyn explained.

"Oh," Boromir groaned as his stomach tied itself in knots. He was allergic to peppermint, didn't she know that? As if hearing his thoughts she said, "Please forgive me, Faramir just told me about your allergy."

"F-forgiven," He said as he began to heave. Eowyn positioned his head over the bucket and held his hair back as he vomited. So much for a happy holiday.


	37. There is only you

**Title:**  There is only you

**Summary:**  "Oh to be young and feel love's keen sting."

**Prompt:**  37 "Sex"

**Word count:**  597

* * *

Eowyn watched him slip away from the festivities like a sulking cat. She stayed while among her people until it was sure she would not be missed. A moment later she followed after him. When she found him, Boromir sat on the edge of the bed in a slouched position. In his hand was the new sword gifted to him by her uncle, he twirled it in a circle, examining the design of the hilt. He sat upright suddenly aware of her presence, he glanced toward the door with a look of surprise. "My lady," He started, straightening his red tunic.

Eowyn nodded slightly in greeting. "Why have you left the celebration? She asked, genuinely curious. Boromir sighed warily. She crossed the room and sat next to him. "I just needed to get away for a moment," He confessed. Eowyn frowned. She didn't think he was so uncomfortable in crowded rooms- she paused. "Boromir… does this concern the secret you cannot tell me?" She inquired. He nodded after a moment of silence. "Aye, it doe-" He felt his breath hitch when her fingers curled around his. He looked up to meet her gaze, so full of worry. Eowyn leaned forward and pressed her face against the side of his, he exhaled slowly through his mouth when she placed a hand upon his chest. "Eowyn - you cannot…" He stopped, almost afraid to finish the sentence. She smiled at his hesitance. "Have I not made my feelings clear enough to you in the caves, or before even?" She pulled away from him and regarded the hesitance in his green eyes, brushing a lock of hair away from his face. "I have loved you since I was eighteen, perhaps earlier."

He continued to stare at her in surprise. "But- we always fought!" He argued. "I thought you hated me… I thought you were in love with Aragorn."

She shook her head, almost tempted to laugh. "Perhaps at first, yes. You're not a terribly easy person to get along with, my lord."  _Neither are you_ , Boromir thought to himself. "-As for Aragorn… no, it is not love I feel for him, but admiration for what he stands for," Eowyn's pale skin seemed to glow as she smiled. "My love is reserved for you alone, Boromir. If it were any different, I would not have kissed you, but him."

Boromir stared at her in stunned silence, but on the inside he could feel himself rejoice. The knowledge of his not-so-secret affection for her was returned in kind made his heart skip a beat. "You love me?" He said, voice shaking. When Eowyn nodded fervently, he seemed torn between cheering or crying, so he kissed her instead. "I love you," Boromir whispered to her. Eowyn giggled when he pulled her down onto the bed. Boromir felt his limbs had a mind of their own, the same could be said of Eowyn.

Their act of love through sex set every fiber of her being alight with pleasure. She felt him lean into her as she hugged him close to her chest. He went rigid and gasped against her skin while she let out a half-cry into his hair. Finally, Eowyn felt him relax. He continued to hold her close, arms around her waist. She smoothed back his disheveled hair, her legs unwrapped themselves from around his waist and he fell back onto the mattress. Boromir stared up at her with a smile. "I love you, Eowyn." Eowyn lowered herself down and kissed his brow. "I love you, Boromir."


	38. Shadow

**Title:**  Shadow

**Summary:**  Boromir wonders if Eowyn has any friends… besides him.

**Prompt:**  38 "Innocence"

**Word count:**  183

* * *

"Tell me Theodred, does Eowyn have any friends?"

"Mm-hmm. A few in the servants and in the village of course. Why?"

"Because, ever since my arrival here she's done nothing save pester and follow me about like a little shadow."

Theodred paused in the sharpening of his sword long enough to chuckle at his friend's petulant expression. "Ah, the innocence of youth."

"Sweet Eru, do not tell me-"

Theodred wave his friend's concern off with a dismissive hand. "No, no. Eowyn doesn't have feelings for you, but I do believe she's adopted in you a new friend."

Boromir blinked. "Why me?"

"Isn't it obvious? You're a stranger, she knows little or nothing about you other than you're my friend of the same age. You intrigue her basically. She wants to know more about you."

Boromir groaned slouching further in the chair he sat in. "Brilliant."

"Oh, don't worry yourself friend. She's fourteen, their attention wavers from this to that. She'll be on to something or someone else before you know it."


	39. Blasphemous Rumors

**Title:**  Blasphemous Rumors

**Summary:**  A mention of it is all it takes to send him reeling back.

**Prompt:**  39 "Guilt"

**Word count:**  136

* * *

A man like Boromir was not quick to forgiven offence, be it from others or himself. So Eowyn was not surprised to see her beloved stumble back down the slope of guilt upon overhearing few gossiping men who somehow found out about what happened between himself and the ring bearer, no more than a year ago. The secret, she learned, he'd been keeping from her during the war.

"You were not of your right mind, Boromir. You did well to resist it for as long as you did." She kneeled before him and placed her hands upon his knees. "No one that knows you blames or hates you for what happened. Not even Frodo." And to this, Boromir raised his bowed head, revealing green eyes moist with tears and shame.

"I know, but I do."


	40. To break a Promise

**Title:**  To break a Promise

**Summary:**  On the eve of battle Eowyn will "break" a promise she never made.

**Prompt:**  40 "Promise"

**Word count:**  409

* * *

Eowyn stood in silence the face of the sunrise, the warmth of her uncle's hands still tingled on her face and hair. "Eowyn," She turned to find Boromir approaching her. She inclined her head to him. A faint smile graced her lips at the sight of him in the livery of a soldier of Rohan. "What do you think?" He asked. "You look like a man of Rohan, my lord," She answered. Boromir chuckled, but when she failed to smile in return he frowned. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, a defeated expression on her face. "Aragorn has left me behind to watch the lonely halls of the Meduseld. He has left my brother and uncle to command an army without hope," Eowyn narrowed her gaze. Boromir watched her pale complexion flush with her anger, her eyes spoke volumes what she dare not say aloud. And the frightening part was, he knew she would do it (or at the very least attempt it). Panic clenched his heart, removing his helm he closed the distance between them, not caring who saw them together at such proximity. "Eowyn, you must promise me you will stay behind. Please do not follow us."

Eowyn looked upon his distress with a shake of her head. "You cannot ask this of me," She whispered. He took her hand in his, still awed by how delicate they felt against his callused palm. "Please, Eowyn," He pressed. "I cannot fight until I know you are safe." There was a moment where she considered rebuking him for saying such a thing. She was a shieldmaiden of Rohan, a daughter of kings trained and skilled in combat, yet he wanted her to huddle with the women and children for the sake of his peace of mind in battle. The fear of her guided cage suddenly became more certain in her mind. If she promised this to him she would be surrendering to such a life.

"Very well. I will not follow you," She said, sounding convincing even to herself. Whether or not he noticed she failed to use 'promise' appeared to be of little consequence to Boromir. A shaky breath escaped him and kissed her briefly on the lips. Pulling away from her he donned his helmet again and proceeded into the bustling crowd of soldiers beyond the tents. Eowyn waited until he was out of sight before retreating to her tent where the spare armor waited.


	41. Illegal Nap Time

**Title:**  Illegal Nap Time

 **Summary:**  Eowyn catches Boromir sleeping on the job.

 **Prompt:**  41 "Children"

 **Word count:**  104

* * *

"Boromir!" Eowyn's voice startled him awake. He picked his head up from the desk, his back protested with stiffness as he eased back against the chair. Eowyn appeared around the bend of his study, wearing a stunning green dress. "Yes?" He asked, wiping the drool from his mouth.

"Have you seen the children? I can't find them anywhere," Eowyn said. He started to think for a moment. "Miriel might be with Arwen, elvish lessons. Erm… Léod and Firiel are with Faramir and Idis."

She gave him a most pointed look. "Again?"

Boromir shrugged guilty. "I needed a nap?" He offered meekly.


	42. The Greatest Comfort

**Title:**  The Greatest Comfort

 **Summary:**  Boromir bears a gift to a sick Eowyn.

 **Prompt:**  42 "Comfort"

 **Word count:**  192

* * *

A sneeze echoed down the hall as a door was closed, followed closely by another. Boromir paused in uncertainty, his hands played with the doll in his possession as the nurse approached him. "I wouldn't go inside that room my lord, she's quite contagious. I feel a tickle in my throat already," The nurse shuddered and hurried down the hall, a pile of soaked sheets in her hand. Boromir approached the door carefully and knocked twice. Another sneeze was his response.

"Go away! I'm not allowed visitors!" Said a raspy voice.  _Poor thing,_  he couldn't help but thinking. "I'm aware of that miss. I just wanted to give you something - for Yule, I mean," Boromir explained. There was a gasp on the other side of the door that made him back up, followed by a thump and the quick succession of footsteps. The door flew open and Boromir was sent stumbling back when Eowyn's fourteen year old arms hugged him like the greatest comfort in the world. Boromir patted her awkwardly on the head, not accustomed to such affection from her.

So much for avoiding contagion.


	43. Lights

**Title:**  Lights

 **Summary:**  A quiet moment shared in the dark.

 **Prompt:**  43 "Light and Dark"

 **Word count:**  134

* * *

A shadow of light showed the sky, filling their eyes with its beauty. Eowyn sat next to Boromir with a contented smile, one hand wrapped tightly around his. He had taken her to Lossarnach for the week, hoping a more natural environment, one softer or gentler than Minas Tirith, would lift her usually low spirits. "Beautiful isn't it?" She said.

"Aye," He answered in a distracted tone of voice.

She rested her head upon his shoulder and breathed slowly through her nose. "When you think about it, it's the only time light and dark ever truly co-exist at the same time," Eowyn glanced up at her husband, whose undivided attention was now drawn to her. Boromir regarded her with a wry grin as the fireworks continued to illuminate the night sky.


	44. Childish Woes

**Title:**  Childish Woes

 **Summary:**  Misery loves parenting.

 **Prompt:**  44 "Affection"

 **Word count:**  213

* * *

There were many things Boromir and Eowyn were to learn about parenthood that no one could've prepared them for, even if there had been time. One major lesson was that peace would now be an illusive thing to acquire. Their first, Miriel, was a fussy as his brother during infancy. (Secretly he wondered if she was having horrible dreams). She wanted their attention all the time, at very waking hour. They spent the better part of 3020 in a sleepless and moody haze, snapping at anyone who so much as suggested they weren't getting enough sleep.

With the unexpected birth of the twins, Léod and Firiel, it was their closeness or they would cry until they exhausted themselves into sleep. Eowyn's breasts were twice as sore with two mouths to feed and made for ill company around bedtime. When Boromir was tired of the constant chaos of his wife and children, he hid in the library until his wife (or worse, Idis) came looking for him, angry as a dog, which only made him twice as disagreeable as his wife. Yet, in spite of all of the misery that came with raising three children, their affection for the little terrors remained as strong as the day it was forged.


	45. I will Return

**Title:**  I will Return

Summary: Boromir prepares for war and Eowyn dreads his departure.

**Prompt:**  45 "Separation"

**Word count:**  568

* * *

The air of a five year peace went rigid with dreaded anticipation, the kind that only accompanies the preparation for war. Eowyn lay on her left side with one arm tucked under her head and her legs drawn up slightly. Wide awake she watched Boromir sleep the night away like it was just another passing moment, but it wasn't. Tomorrow, before first light, Boromir, along with a sore of troops and king Elessar, would ride off to wage war against the enemy threatening to destroy the fragile peace of the lands.

The separation, she decided, would be more than she could bear. She didn't want him to leave. There was a moan from the man next to her, he jerked slightly as if he'd been shocked. His eyes opened with a gasp, Eowyn placed a hand upon his chest, his heart was racing. "Nightmare?" She whispered. Boromir swallowed roughly. "Amon Hen," He breathed. Eowyn closed her eyes in dismay as he rolled over onto his side. "The battle, love, not the ring," He clarified, pressing a kiss to her hand. Eowyn breathed a sigh of relief. She glanced down at her hand clasped in his, dread creeping into her again. Boromir did not seem to notice, however, he was still lost in the dream. "It was so different," He murmured. Eowyn smoothed the damp hair away from his face, studying his dazed expression as his eyes slipped closed. "What was?" She whispered. He opened his eyes slowly, leaning into her touch. "The dream," He answered. "I forgot my shield and as a result… the Uruk-"

"I don't want to hear anymore." Eowyn was upright in a second, Boromir followed suit, more or less out of habit than a real reaction to her clipped tone. He saw the trepidation and anguish in her expression deepen as she sat against the headboard. "Boromir, you mustn't go," She said. Boromir's response was not a laugh, as it would've been if it was no serious matter, but a low sigh. "Eowyn, I must go," He argued. "It is my duty as a soldier and to the king."

"You are the king's Steward, your place is with your people and with your family," Eowyn protested softly, remembering the twins slept in the adjacent room. "Let Faramir go in your stead." She knew what his reaction would be to that, however. The stubborn streak of protectiveness would never allow his brother into war if he didn't have to go. "Faramir is coming here to act as steward, Legolas is to remain in Ithilien in his stead," He explained.

"All so you can got to war?" She couldn't help the anger that seeped into her voice.

He shook his head. "So I can fulfill a promise to a friend."

"And what of your promise to me?" Eowyn asked, turning her back. The anger was gone from her voice, but he still felt the sharpness of her words. He knew the reason she was asking him not to go, he understood it perfectly. Yet he would not allow himself to be swayed from his decision, not if it meant breaking his promise to Aragorn. "My promise to you remains unbroken, always," He pressed himself against her back, resting his chin upon her bare shoulder. "I will return to you and our children."

"Alive?"

He nodded. "Alive."


	46. Come back to Me

**Title:**  Come back to Me

**Summary:**  Eowyn waits for Boromir's return from war.

**Prompt:**  46 "Wartime"

**Word count:**  386

* * *

_(1st Month):_

"Mummy, where has papa gone?" Eowyn turned away from the window to regard her seven year old daughter. Miriel was the spinning image of Eowyn as she had been in her youth, the only differentiating features being the ginger hair of her uncle, her father's frown and their mother's smile. Looking at her daughter made Eowyn miss Boromir all that much more. "He's gone to war," She said finally. Miriel frowned thoughtfully. "But, I thought wartime was over?"  _So did I,_  Eowyn thought.

_(6th Month):_

"You've been keeping busy, I see," Faramir stated as he looked through the pile of papers on his brother's desk. Eowyn quirked an eyebrow at the slightly absentminded air in his voice. It was clear to anyone who lived on the sixth level of the city that Eowyn missed her husband and as if not to think about him, threw herself into her duties as mother and helper of her chambermaids or cooks when the children were preoccupied. Faramir worried about her health, but he had nothing to fear (not in her opinion anyway). "Yes, I have," Eowyn answered plainly.

Faramir raised his head in surprise, the doubt evident in his eyes. "And you are well? Please, tell the truth," He said.

"Yes, very well, thanks," She replied. "Granted, I dreamt he came home and cried when I realized it wasn't real-" She paused. "-Other than that hiccup, I am well Faramir, truthfully."

_(12th Month):_

Boromir blinked rapidly in surprise when the snowflake landed on the edge of his newly acquired scar, which ran down slightly across his cheek. He pulled his cloak closer around him as Aragorn laughed ruefully. "I expected to be home before the snowfall," He sighed. Boromir tossed another log in the fire and cast a wary glance around their sullen camp, wincing when his frown pulled at his scar. "I had a dream this morning," He said finally. "Eowyn stood before the white tree, arms open in invitation. I wanted to go to her but I couldn't move. She said to me, 'come back to me, I love you' and disappeared."

While Aragorn was sure the dream was simply a product of his anxious imagination, Boromir couldn't help the knots that his stomach twisted itself in.


	47. Some Wild Thing

**Title:**  Some Wild Thing

**Summary:**  Eowyn's state of mind as the Witch King attacks Théoden.

**Prompt:**  47 "Anger"

**Word count:**  139

* * *

Eowyn felt as though she could scream for an eternity if she could find her voice again. The Witch King flew down onto the field and all their efforts were reduced by the senseless fear, she watched the men cover and flee from the fell beast whose roar sent a fowl stench into the bloody air. She watched as her uncle was tossed across the field like nothing and felt a kind anger rise in her, the kind she never experienced in her life.

She purposely broke her trust with Boromir in the name of renown, failed Merry when she lost him in the chaos of the battlefield, but Eowyn would not loose her uncle to a wraith. Hefting her sword, she unglued herself from where she stood and dashed into the fray, teeth bared like a wild animal.


	48. Afterlife

**Title:**  Afterlife

**Summary:**  Eowyn wonders about the afterlife, Boromir has his doubts about it.

**Prompt:**  48 "Zion"

**Word count:**  198

* * *

"Where do people go when they die?" Eowyn nodded appreciatively to Eomer when he unhooked her right foot from the stirrup. She righted herself, straightening out her wrinkled dress. "Do you think there's a Zion like the undying lands waiting for men?"

"I doubt it," Boromir answered, leading his horse away from a haystack with a gentle tug of the reigns. Eowyn, of course, frown quizzically at his response. "Why not? Don't you believe your mother's gone to a better place?" She asked, hurrying to catch up with him and ignoring the irritated grunt from her brother. Boromir moved a little to the side as she stumbled to a stop beside him, he shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes I do, other times I find it hard to believe in anything I can't see," Boromir mused.

"How said," She said. "It might be sad to you, sister, but to try to live with the eyes of a soldier and maintain a devout belief in the afterlife," Eomer chided. Eowyn shot her brother a simmering glare, one he paid no attention to. "Accused are those who are faithless and continue onward," Eowyn stated.

"Amen," Boromir grumbled sarcastically.


	49. Hide and Seek

**Title:**  Hide and Seek

**Summary:**  There are more than just dust bunnies hiding under his bed.

**Prompt:**  49 "Tutor"

**Word count:**  253

* * *

' _Dear father:_

_In the matter of the alliance between Rohan and Gondor, I am happy to report that King Théoden has no immediate plans-"_

Suddenly, the quill jumped across the parchment and snapped from unexpected pressure. "Damn it," He cursed, tossing the quill to the ground. He stared down at the booted foot that had been kicked out in time to see a foot retreat under his bed. Pushing the table back from the bed he crouched down to the floor. What he found was a sixteen year old Eowyn in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. "There'd better a good reason for your being under there lass," Boromir warned, "You just ruined my letter and broke my quill."

"My apologies my lord, I'm hiding from my tutor."

"What? Lady Ebrill?"

"Yes!" Eowyn seemed pleased that he remembered the old witch's name. "She's ghastly. She slapped me across the hands when I got distracted." Boromir offered his hand to her, Eowyn took it without hesitation and he pulled her out from under the bed. Eowyn's appearance was in a state of disarray, she was covered head to toe in dust and her hair stood up in strange ways that made him grin. "I had a governess who used to the same thing," He offered in a show of understanding.

"Really? What happened to her?" Eowyn asked, trying desperately to fix her appearance. Boromir shrugged a nonchalant shrug. "My mother relieved her of her duties, of course."


	50. Calvary vs. Infantry

**Title:**  Calvary vs. Infantry

**Summary;**  Eowyn teases Boromir during his bath time.

**Prompt:**  50 "Calluses"

**Word count:**  172

* * *

"I don't think my brother has this many calluses on his person," Eowyn giggled. She reached out to grab his ankle, Boromir tried to look indignant as he pulled his foot away from her grasp. Eowyn appraised his naked body with barely concealed pleasure. For one who seemed so big and burly in his clothing she did not expect to see such a thin man underneath them.

"If I remember correctly, your brother is a cavalry man. The only calluses he's got are between his legs," He said. "Poor Lothíriel!" She laughed, swatting his leg. "Me on the other hand? I'm infantry. Try walking around in armor for as long as I have, your bound have calluses in strange places."

Eowyn rolled her eyes. "Are you ever getting out of that tub? You're going to prune if you don't." Boromir nudged her arm with the foot hanging out of the tub, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "I might if you get in," He said.


	51. Just in case

**Title:**  Just in case

**Summary:**  Eowyn and Miriel during sword practice.

**Prompt:**  51 "Sword Practice"

**Word count:**  197

* * *

"One, two, three, four, five! Very good Miriel!" Eowyn cheered. Her 5 year old daughter made a triumphant squeal of happiness as she jumped up and down. They watched mother and daughter move gradually across the empty courtyard with their faux swords. One wore an expression of worry, and the other tried and failed to hide his pride toward the display. "She's a might young for sword practice, isn't she?" Faramir asked.

Boromir nodded slightly, watching as Eowyn taught their daughter how to hold the sword properly. "Aye, I think she might be," He replied. "But her mother wants her to know how to use a sword… just in case she needs to defend herself." He paused to swallow the dread that crept into his throat. "How's Idis?"

Faramir frowned. "Peevish and uncomfortable. She hates bed rest," He replied. Boromir chuckled softly as Miriel parried another attack. "She'll get worse the close she gets to her due date. Tread softly," He said.

"I'll make a note of that," Faramir managed to say. Miriel had spotted them lurking at the courtyard entrance and knowing that practice was over, Eowyn followed after her daughter.


	52. My kingdom for a Horse

**Title:**  My kingdom for a Horse

**Summary:**  Boromir and the unpleasantness of riding horseback.

**Prompt:**  52 "Caravan"

**Word count:**  233

* * *

After untold hours of riding, Boromir's thighs were killing him. He doubted walking would do any good to remedy this affliction but his back, let alone sanity, could not bear straddling a horse any longer. Hoisting himself from the saddle he landed on the ground with a groan. A shadow appeared, blocking the sun from his eyes. He looked up and found a grinning Aragorn riding alongside him. "Sore?" He inquired innocently. Boromir glowered at the ranger. "Among other things," He answered shortly. Aragorn chuckled at his friend's open irritation toward his amusement. "We've a ways to go yet. The horse may yet prove to be your greatest friend in the matter of comfort," He cautioned.

"Yes, I am aware of this Aragorn," He replied a bit too testily. "I simply cannot abide by horseback at the present."

"Very well," Aragorn sighed, not at all put off by Boromir's mood. The afternoon sun set the trail ablaze with heat. The caravan of men, women and children were most likely in fowler moods than Boromir. Looking ahead of them, he spotted Eowyn walking alongside Arod where Gimli had situated himself. Boromir looked up as she cast a glance over her shoulder. She appeared to regard both men with a warm smile before turning away. Boromir hoped he wasn't blushing when Aragorn asked, "You are acquainted with the Lady Eowyn?"


	53. Hero in Distress!

**Title:**  Hero in Distress!

**Summary:**  Eowyn tells her children a fanciful of heroine-ism.

**Prompt:**  53 "True Bride"

**Word count:**  444

* * *

'… _And on the 4th_ _day, the wicked Queen Berúthiel finally let the bride inside her castle labyrinth on the promise that she would make her a dress fit for a elven queen. When Berúthiel's back was turned, the bride opened the last walnut given to her by the Lord of the Eagles, and pulled from it a long white dress made of mithril and silk. "How lovely!" The queen cried in surprise, never questioning how the dress came to be. Snatching it from her grasp, Berúthiel hurried into her dressing room. Alone, the bride wandered the maze-like castle, guided by the moth, also gifted to her by eagle lord, until they reached the queen's bedroom._

_It was there that she found her prince, no bigger then the palm of her hand, trapped in a lantern hanging above the bed. "Beloved prince!" She cried. The prince stood from his crouched position and smiled with relief. "True bride!" He responded, pressing his palms against the cool glass. "The evil queen has trapped me, please help!" The bride climbed onto the bed, puzzled by the predicament of her prince. "Oh, what can I do!" She cried._

_Just then the moth appeared in front of her, bearing keys. "Thank you, dear friend!" The bride slipped the key inside the keyhole and turned. Suddenly the prince began to glow bright green and in a flash of light, outgrew his prison. The prince and the bride fell onto the bed among the glass shards in a tangle of limbs. The bride hugged her disoriented prince and together they fled the castle, guided by the moth. When Berúthiel's gift vanished and she realized she'd been betrayed, she gave chase and perused them into the woods. But she was too late. The prince and his bride reached the Lord of Eagles who spirited them away back to the kingdom of Númenor. Berúthiel was left alone on her desolate little island of black cats and was never heard from again….'_

Eowyn closed the frayed book to a chorus of cheers, she sat surrounded by her children, Miriel, Léod and Firiel, who sat huddled together under her fur cloak. "That was wonderfully told, mummy," Miriel declared happily. "But what happened to the bride her and prince?" Léod and Firiel nodded in agreement, also curious to know what happened. Eowyn smiled secretly. "I suspect they lived quite contentedly with each other until the end of their days," She said. "Don't you think, Boromir?"

Boromir looked up from the map he was reading with a smile. "Aye, I think so," He said.


	54. Tell-tale Signs

**Title:**  Tell-tale Signs

**Summary:**  Eowyn fears Boromir may be getting sick.

**Prompt:**  54 "Pale"

**Word count:**  212

* * *

"What are you doing?" Was the question he didn't quite hear underneath the water. A hand dipped itself into the tub, recoiled at the temperature then tugged on a lock of his hair. Boromir sat up from the awkward bent position he placed himself in, tossing the hair from his eyes as the water ran down his face. "What?" He gasped, keeping his eyes closed as he shook the water from his throbbing head. Eowyn jumped back from the water that splashed her, when he finished she approached the tub. "I said, 'what are you doing'?" Eowyn repeated with a laugh. She kneeled beside the tub. "That water is freezing."

Boromir leaned against the back of the tub, closing his eyes against the sunlight. "Is it?" He paused to regard the water. He hadn't even noticed it gone cold. "My head aches," He spoke quietly. Eowyn placed a hand upon his forehead, his skin was indeed burning. She frowned. "You do look a bit pale," Eowyn stated, keeping her voice steady. "Not paler than you, I should hope," Boromir joked. Eowyn hid the concern with a smile, praying he hadn't caught the fever circulating through the city. Rising from the floor she asked, "Would like some tea?"

"Yes, please."


	55. False Complements

**Title:**  False Complements

**Summary:**  Not all women are gifted with a cooking hand.

**Prompt:**  55 "Cooking"

**Word count:**  252

* * *

Boromir regarded the steaming bowl of broth, meat and potatoes with a critical eye, looking as though he did not want to eat it. However, the loud growl of his stomach was quick to remind him of how long he'd gone without food. Eowyn smiled appreciatively at his stomach, ignoring the look of dismay that crossed his face. "Eat, you'll feel better," She said, putting a little more into the bowl. Boromir nodded and touched the spoon to his lips. He swallowed and nearly choked when his throat tightened. The stew was quite possibly the worst thing he ever tasted, let alone put into his mouth. The broth was bitter, the meat undercooked and the potatoes crumbled like ash on his teeth. He spared at glance at Eowyn who watched him anxiously, removing the spoon from his mouth he forced himself to smile. "Stupendous," He said with an impossibly straight face.

Eowyn's face brightened and she stood a little straighter. "Truly? You liked it?" She asked. Boromir nodded each time and as his reward she put more stew into his bowl, which was now spilling over his fingers. It took all his might not to start cursing as the hot broth burned his skin. Boromir watched her hurry off to feed the others, he then stared down at the stew of woe with disgust. He pretended not to notice Aragorn's keen stare when he fed the soup to the earth. Theodred was right, Eowyn was a horrid cook.


	56. Snowfall

Title: **Snowfall**

**Summary:**  It was Eowyn's first snowfall in elven years.

**Prompt:**  56 "Yule"

**Word count:**  227

* * *

To Boromir, watching Eowyn grow accustomed to Gondor's cooler climate upon the departure of the summer was like watching a child fuss over its new surroundings. With their child growing steadily inside of her, she proved more cranky than awed. He blamed it on the hormones of course, but Eowyn was genuinely disgruntled by her surroundings. She complained about the chill in the room until he was forced to rise from the bed to strengthen the fire. Afterward he would lay in overheated misery beneath the covers and she would be resting comfortably atop of the blankets, no longer chilled.

It took time for her to grow accustomed to the slightly heavier dresses, she complained they threw her off balance and hurt her back. Boromir argued it was the extra weight she carried in front of her, but a decidedly icy look would prevent him from perusing said argument any further than that.

Of course, for all her complaints, she slowly became apperceive (or accepting, Boromir was quite sure) of these tiny miseries when the snow arrived upon the day of Yule and she was able share it with their newborn daughter. It was Eowyn's first snowfall in eleven years and Miriel's first. Watching her dance in semi-circles with the babe in her arms made Boromir glad he was alive to see it.


	57. Lullaby Moon

**Title:**  Lullaby Moon

**Summary:**  Boromir and Eowyn are visited by a spirit.

**Prompt:**  57 "Winter"

**Word count:**  169

* * *

Eowyn woke to the sound of a haunting melody floating through the air. Their bedroom seemed to glow with unnatural moonlight, the lights of those who had come and gone from the world drifted past the bed as if to greet her. "Hello?" She said. The singing continued and she realized it was coming from the nursery, where the moonlight was the strongest.

Eowyn tread softly across the floor toward the nursery, peering inside she found Boromir fast asleep in the rocking chair, a blanket draped over his shoulders to ward off the winter chill. She stepped further into the room, confused. Where was the singing coming from? "Hello?" Eowyn called again.

"Hello," A soft voice responded. Eowyn brought her attention back to where her husband slept. Standing next to the rocking chair was a woman with green eyes and fair hair and a smile that was a uncanny reflection of Faramir's. She placed a hand on his shoulder, Boromir sighed, leaning into her touch.

"Finduilas." Eowyn whispered.


	58. Intrusions

**Title:**  Intrusions

**Summary:**  Eowyn's favorite place in Meduseld is ruined by Grima Wormtongue.

**Prompt:**  58 "Spring"

**Word count:**  172

* * *

Eowyn sat comfortably in her favorite chair, lost in the pages of what she believed to be an incredible book when she felt him staring at her. She tore her gaze from the aged pages and frowned at Grima with steel in her eyes. "What do you want, worm?" She snapped. Wormtongue emerged from the shadows, unfazed by the insult she had learned from her brother. "To simply look in on you my lady," He explained in his slow and steady manner. "You seemed troubled all this morning. If there is anything I can do-"

Her frown deepened as she slammed the book shut. "There isn't. I would like you to leave now, thank you," Eowyn spoke with barely restrained anger. He paid no mind to it however, he was far too used to her disdain. Grima bowed, flashing her a grin in the process. "As you wish," He said, leaving the library. Eowyn watched him go, her sunny disposition and enthusiasm for the spring morning ruined by his skulking presence.


	59. My Helmet for a Bow

**Title:**  My Helmet for a Bow

**Summary:**  The survivors of the bridge collapse take a breather.

**Prompt:**  59 "Summer"

**Word count:**  189

* * *

"It'll be too soon before I get out of this bloody armor," Boromir yanked the glove from his hand, revealing a sore and swollen wrist. Faramir grimaced at the sight of it. "That looks bad," He commented. Boromir nodded in agreement, using his left hand to wipe his brow. The summer heat was worse than either man could remember it being in previous years.

Boromir felt like an overcooked goose in his armor. They sat behind a ruined wall just inches away from the water, full of dead bodies (Orc and man alike) and debris from the fallen bridge. The two men who survived the perilous bridge collapse with them lay unconscious. It was fitting, Boromir noted, that one of them happened to be a foot soldier and the other a ranger.

"I lost my helmet," Boromir grumbled, wincing when he touched the knot on his head.

"I lost my bow if that's any consolation," Faramir said. The elder brother fixed the young man a look that clearly meant it did not. However, no sooner than he did both men dissolved into a fit of hysterical giggles.


	60. To Home

**Title:**  To Home

 **Summary:**  As Eowyn bids Boromir a farewell, she tries to make her feelings for him known.

 **Prompt:**  60 "Fall"

 **Word count:**  345

* * *

"Do you have to go? It only feels like you just arrived," Boromir chuckled at the disappointment in the girl's voice. "Aye, I've been here two weeks just about, I must go home now," He replied. Eowyn followed him out of the stable. They walked alongside each other, the chestnut horse the only thing between them. Eowyn tossed her hair from her eyes, nodding to the passer-byers as they traveled down to the gate.

Boromir mounted his horse in one graceful swing, Eowyn ducked out of the path of his leg with a yelp. "Watch yourself," He grunted. Eowyn walked around to the other side of the horse, irritated by the gust of wind that decided to pick up around them. Fall (or autumn was it was commonly referred to in Rohan) was Eowyn's least favorite season; the air never seemed to be able to make up it's mind on how cool or mild it wanted to be, thus leaving her unsure of what exactly to wear. Boromir, from the looks of him, did not even seem to notice the erratic atmosphere around him. His thoughts were completely on his homeland.

"When do I get to meet your brother?" She asked, smoothing back the horse's mane. Boromir shrugged his shoulders as he gripped the reins. "Dunno. Maybe he'll be the one to visit next time?" He replied. Eowyn smiled as she watched a tremor run across his shoulders, the chill had gotten to him finally.

"I should hope that's not the case," She said decided to say.

"Why not?"

"I rather like having you around to bother."

"Bah!" Boromir seemed to miss the underlying message behind her words. He smiled at her confusion, thinking she thought ill of his brother. "Have a care, lass. You'd like Faramir," He said. "He's a kind and fair-minded man, moreso than me." Upon hearing these words, Eowyn began to wonder if the reason Boromir remained unmarried (especially now at thirty-seven) was his inability to detect a hint.


	61. Rude Awakening

**Title:**  Rude Awakening

**Summary:**  Little Miriel seeks the comfort of her father.

**Prompt:**  61 "New Year"

**Word count:**  189

* * *

The New Year, the year 1422, began with a piercing wail and a dismayed cry. He did not necessarily react to it at first, thinking it was nothing more than his imagination. However, when the wail continued to grow louder, he forced himself to acknowledge it. Turning his head, he opened his eyes, Eowyn stood just a couple inches away from the bed, trying and failing to console their baby daughter. Eowyn conveyed her apology silently. "She just woke up this way," She said by way of explanation.

Boromir made a sleepy gesture toward the bed as he sat up. Eowyn sat on the edge and placed Miriel in his arms. "Here now, what's all this noise for?" He sat girl on his lap, watching her red face with worry. Miriel cried a little while longer then steadily began to calm until there was naught but hiccups coming from her little body. Supported by his hand, Miriel leaned against her father and proceeded back into the arms of slumber.

Eowyn huffed a little at the pleasantly surprised expression on Boromir's face. "Mother's touch indeed," She grumbled.


	62. Spooky

**Title:**  Spooky

**Summary:**  Boromir doesn't even notice it until he looks into the mirror.

**Prompt:**  62 "Gray Hair"

**Word count:**  136

* * *

Eowyn looks like a frazzled mess when Boromir enters their bedroom. She stares blankly into the mirror, regarding her sleep-deprived reflection with dismay. It's her birthday and already she miserable from trying to make peace between their five and seven year old children. He comes up from behind, his sudden appearance makes her sit straighter and smile tiredly. "Boromir," She laughs with relief as he leans down and kisses the nape of her neck. "Happy Birthday, Eowyn," Boromir smiled back at her reflection.

And that's when he sees it. The single streak of gray hair that stood out against his now sandy brown locks. Eowyn notices what has caught his eye and twirls the hair around her finger. Kissing his cheek she said, "I think it looks lovely."

Boromir thinks it looks spooky.


	63. Favorite Time of Day

**Title:**  Favorite Time of Day

**Summary:**  Idis' attempt to keep the peace between Eowyn and a distinguished lady of the court succeeds a little too well.

**Prompt:**  63 "Tea Time"

**Word count:**  233

* * *

Boromir and Eowyn sat next to each other in what could only be described as a haze of boredom, cleverly disguised as concentration. Faramir and Idis sat on the right side of the table, sipping politely on their cups of tea. The four of them were pretending to listen to the 'esteemed' Lady Eilfgiva as she droned on and on about the shabby politics of her country, which was slowly pulling itself back together in a post-war realm.

Eowyn regarded the woman's self-contained superiority and tenacity to gossip about the fellow women of her court with barely concealed disdain, however, the woman took it as no great thing to worry herself about. "I do so enjoy tea time, don't you my lord?" Eilfgiva declared with an easy smile, eyes swiveling over to Boromir.

Boromir raised his eyebrows in mild confusion, at a momentary loss for words. Faramir kicked his ankle, hoping it would inspire response. "Not- not really, my-"

"Oh, yes," Idis spoke instead, stopping his response and deterring whatever heated remark that started to itch her cousin's throat. "It happens to be my favorite time of - day!" The last of her words came out in an exclamation. She rose from her chair, blue eyes wide in mute shock. "What is it?" Eowyn asked, anxiously.

Both Faramir and Eilfgiva paled when Idis replied, "I believe my water broke."


	64. If you can't say No

**Title:**  If you can't say No

**Summary:**  Eowyn is roped into a situation Boromir finds quite amusing.

**Prompt:**  64 "Storyteller"

**Word count:** 148

* * *

"I would've never figured you for a storyteller," Boromir chuckled. Eowyn turned away from the vanity, lowering her brush away from her hair. "Well, I couldn't exactly say no to them, Boromir," Eowyn said. Her response was meek, which only seemed to make him smile even more. Boromir lay against the headboard of their bed with one leg propped sideways across his knee, the image of a relaxed man. He smiled at her guilty expression. "Of course not," He said.

"Well, I couldn't!" She argued. Boromir laughed as he climbed out of bed, Eowyn resumed brushing her hair. It is easy for him to laugh, she thought, he does not have a host a children to entertain in the hall tonight. "Where are you going?" Eowyn inquired when he opened the door.

"For a walk. You'll let me know how story time goes, yeah?"


	65. On my Honour

**Title:**  On my Honour

 **Summary:**  Eowyn visits Boromir in the dungeon.

 **Prompt:**  65 "Faramir"

 **Word count:**  208

 **Authors Note:**  Something I literally jotted down watching my least favorite  _Sharpe_  "episode" (and book),  _"Sharpe's Honour"_.

* * *

Eowyn had spent the last ten minutes bribing the guard before she was allowed inside the dungeons to see Boromir. It was a decidedly dreary place, one she was sure no one made any real point of visiting unless totally necessary.

Boromir sat on the ground with his head hung low. He wore nothing but a lightweight tunic and brown pants. The latter was covered in dried blood. "Boromir," She whispered. Her voice echoed through the vast space, sounding louder than it truly was. Boromir stood up immediately, stumbling over his own feet in the process. "Eowyn," He cried in relief. "Where were - is Faramir-?"

Eowyn nodded hastily. "He's fine, you needn't worry about him. Worry about yourself," She rebuked, casting a look over her shoulder. Boromir followed her gaze, one of the guards were coming. Sticking his fingers through the bars, he grabbed her hand. "Eowyn, I swear to you, on my honor, that I did not kill lord-"

"Peace, Boromir! I know you did not kill that horrid man (even if he did deserve it)," Eowyn interjected with a shudder. "We'll find a way to get you out of this, I promise."

He gave her a wane smile. "I know you will, lass."


	66. Emotionally Stunted

**Title:**  Emotionally Stunted

**Summary:**  Boromir learns of Theodred's death from Eowyn.

**Prompt:**  66 "Theodred"

**Word count:**  397

* * *

The gravesite was cold from weeks of inactivity. Simbelmynë grew rampant across its soil. The 25th of February, a day before an attempt on his own life was taken, that is when he died. Boromir could scarcely believe his ears when the news was laid at his feet. There would be no going forward for Theodred. His road ended in the defense of the river Isen and a strange thing told him he should have followed quickly thereafter. Yet here he remained among the living.

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were kind enough to avoid the subject of his relationship with Theodred and were soon swept off into the crisis at hand. He too hoped to loose himself in the preparation to evacuate Meduseld before an attack could catch them unprepared, but Eowyn was quick to pull him back. She seemed the only one brave enough to breach the subject of her fallen cousin with him. "Do you ever cry when you loose someone dear to you?" She asked as they helped removed the necessary items needed for the long journey.

Boromir thought for a moment, his searched and prodded his memories for something that would conjure the right emotional response to her question. He found it in the very back of his mind, where everything went when he wanted to ignore it. It burned like dying candle flame. Finally, he said, "I cried for my mother plenty when she died. If I have done it any other time, I've chosen not to remember."

Eowyn frowned. "Why? Are you ashamed of crying?" She asked. "No, there's no shame in crying, that much I know," Boromir grunted. "Tears are simply not a luxury I can afford. Especially now."

"Well, no one else is here, you may cry if you want," The way she said this reminded him of the bothersome little girl that pestered him with an endless barrage of questions. He fixed her a look that was both irritable and slightly amused by her persistence. "I'll cry when I'm good and ready," Boromir stated flatly. Eowyn watched him leave the room. The air seemed to follow him like an eager puppy, nipping at her ankles. She stood in the silence of hall for a moment longer before turning to the trunk that resided behind her.


	67. To make her Smile

**Title:**  To make her Smile

**Summary:**  Boromir muses over Eowyn's attraction for Aragorn

**Prompt:**  67 "Envious"

**Word count:**  157

* * *

Boromir would never admit it to himself (or anyone else), but he was horribly envious of Aragorn's influence over Eowyn. He hated how his mere proximity seemed to make her smile a smile of sunshine. He hated seeing how strangely spontaneous and silly things made her laugh like a carefree child. Boromir did not - could not - understand how the bloody ranger did it or why she reacted so positively to him.

Granted he never tried to truly conversate with her outside of the times she approached him, he was a little too caught up in his own troubles to be bothered with casual conversation. If he was short with her, he earned a glare that could stop a man dead in his tracks, but his impatience was no reason to flaunt her flirtatious behavior in front of him.

Boromir would never admit it to himself, but he wanted to be the one to make her smile.


	68. Implode

**Title:**  Implode

**Summary:**  A mourning Eowyn has retuned to Rohan to seek solitude. Boromir goes to find out why.

**Prompt:**  68 "Lost"

**Word count:**  785

* * *

"The king wishes to see you, my lady," The chambermaid's voice was like an unwelcome heat in the cold bedroom. Eowyn turned to glare at the young woman as her head vanished behind the closing door. Rising from the edge of the bed, Eowyn proceeded out of the room and down the hall. She wondered briefly, what her brother could want with her then scolded herself immediately afterward for being so ignorant. She knew what he wanted, it always the same thing and she refused to speak of it anymore to him.

Eomer waited for her in the library, he sat in the high back chair, appearing regal even in the simplest attire. Eowyn forced herself to smile as she spoke. "Yes, my lord-?" She stopped suddenly and Eomer followed her gaze toward the window. Boromir resided against the wall, the picture of quiet determination. If she had not known him she would've mistook the intensity of his stare for anger. Eowyn felt the gnawing hallow pain inside of her all over again. Eomer rose from the chair, regarding his sister with a solemn expression. "You must speak with him," He said.

"I cannot," She said. "Please do not make me." Eomer shook his head and Eowyn felt her heart clench with dread. Eowyn did not turn to watch him leave, her eyes focused entirely on Boromir's placid expression. The door clicked shut behind her, she knew better than to try to open it. Eomer was notorious when it came to getting her to follow orders. Eowyn sighed angrily and focused her attention on a random space in the library.

Boromir removed himself from against the wall and began to approach her. She studied him through the corner of her eye. He looked older than his age, thinner as well. The dark circles around his eyes gave his skin a sickly pallor and for a moment, she felt concern for his well being trump her sorrows. His approach stopped at the table that separated them, Eowyn tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she turned to face him. "Do you have business here Edoras? Is that why you're here?" She inquired nonchalantly. He shook his head. "I tried writing, you wouldn't answer," He said. Eowyn said nothing. Boromir regarded her blank expression with concern. "The children miss you."

"Tell them I'll be home as soon as I am able."

"Firiel misses you the most, I think. She always asks for you, even when I tell her where you are," Boromir couldn't help the nervous laughter that escaped him. "I miss you." A flicker of emotion graced her pale features and for a moment, Boromir believed she would acknowledge his feelings. However, she turned her head and proceeded over to another shelf. Boromir stood in stunned silence at her reaction. "Is this how it is to be between us now? You will not speak to me because of what we lost?"

"What I lost," Eowyn corrected with a slight edge to her voice. Boromir felt his throat tighten as he swallowed, knowing where he ventured next would lead them nowhere except into confrontation. "He was every bit of mine as he was yours, Eowyn," He said. "You are not the only party involved in this!"

"You are not the one who had to suffer birthing our- my dead child!" Eowyn's voice was like a crack of thunder in the small room, her arm raised itself as if to slap him but she did not move from where she stood.

"No, I am simply the one who had to watch his wife suffer through it. Somehow, this makes me less entitled to mourn for him! He shot back. "No, I will never understand what is you went through, never in a million years, but does that give you the right to treat me with such scorn? Is that why you left me? Is that why you left our children without their mother?"

"No!" She cried without thinking.

"Do you blame yourself for something neither of us could've controlled or prevented? Boromir moved around the table, he closed the distance between them with quick long strides and she could do nothing to keep him away. Pressing herself against the bookshelf, she suddenly burst into tears she had been holding back since the death of their unborn son.

Boromir grasped her shoulders and pulled her away from the wooden structure. Eowyn tried to push him away; her arms lacked the willpower to do so. Finally, she gave him and cried as hard and loud as she dared. Boromir supported her even though his own resolve was breaking.


	69. What if this storm ends?

**Title:**  What if this storm ends?

**Summary:**  Boromir is startled out of dream by Eowyn, who momentarily forgets he invited to bed.

**Prompt:**  69 "Thunder"

**Word count:**  387

* * *

Boromir was floating in an ocean of flowers and sand when her arms wrapped around him, pulling him underneath the heated earth around him. He choked on the sand crushing the life out of him before he realized he was dreaming. With a gasp Boromir pulled himself from his subconscious, a flash of lightning illuminated Eowyn's alarmed expression.

Thunder rolled in the distance, bringing him further into the realm of awareness. "Eowyn?" He rasped, sitting up halfway. Eowyn nodded quickly, her hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her beautiful face.

"Did I frighten you? I'm sorry," She said. Boromir thought to answer when a roar of thunder sounded above them. Eowyn hid her face against his shoulder and tightened her grasp around his waist. Slowly the events of last night came rolling back to the forefront of his mind. Eowyn had come to his bedroom at some unholy hour and practically let herself inside his temporary quarters, wishing to speak to him.

She had done it a few times before this, yet he was still uncomfortable about continuing such behavior, especially with a woman whom he was not bound to (technically speaking). A certain nightmare plagued her and for whatever reason, she sought him out for comfort, something he was inclined not to deny the woman of his affections.

He flopped back down on the bed with a groan. "Are you alright?" Eowyn asked worriedly. "You were choking in your sleep." Boromir nodded, pulling her close to him. "Aye, aye, I'm alright, you just surprised me is all."

"Surprised you?" Eowyn repeated incredulously. Boromir knew better than to try to implicate his irritation in the darkness, so he said, "I forgot you were in the bed."

"So?" He knew Eowyn was frowning at this point. He needed to be clearer as much as it pained him to do so. "So," Boromir said, "In other words, you scared me." There was a long stretch of silence followed by a rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning. Boromir felt himself blush automatically when he heard a stifled giggle from the maiden. Eowyn laid her head on his shoulder as she made herself comfortable against him. "So I did frighten you," The smile in her voice was unmistakable. He scowled in the darkness.

"Aye, you did."


	70. Of rain and fights

**Title:**  Of rain and fights

**Summary:**  Eowyn cools off in the rain; Boromir ends a fight.

**Prompt:**  70 "Cats and dogs"

**Word count:**  141

* * *

Eowyn let out a relieved sigh as the rain rolled down her face, banishing the head that played merry havoc with her head. It was the only downside to living in a city made of stone hewn from a mountain, she thought. The heat clung to you like a bad smell. Eowyn ran her fingers through her damp hair, hoping the rain would never end.

The door opened, she pulled her head out of the window in surprise. Boromir stood at the door with a pouting Firiel in his arms. She let out an exasperated sigh as she proceeded around the bed toward her husband and daughter. "Were they fighting again?" By 'they', she meant the twins, Firiel and Léod.

Firiel gave her mother an all too familiar look of defiance as Boromir replied, "Like cat and dogs, they were."


	71. A reassuring touch

**Title:**  A reassuring touch

 **Summary:**  One touch is all Eowyn needs from him.

 **Prompt:**  71 "Touch"

 **Word count:**  532

* * *

Boromir, no matter how oblivious he pretended to be, was not ignorant to the advances and affections of a woman. To be sure, a man of his stature and rank (particularly during the absence of the rightful king) was not one to be ignored by the female population. The same could be said of his brother, who was slightly more graceful in the matter of wooing women with sonnets and his knowledge of history.

Boromir, by the grace of his mother's subconscious ability to become shy towards forward affection, advice on how to deal with women from the men he called brothers-in-arms, the general lessons of a gentlemen and his own peacockish ways, had women falling over themselves just to catch a glimpse of him. He paid it no mind of course, a little too preoccupied with his soldiering to fool about with any women that hadn't been in a tavern and expected no commitment from him.

Therefore, it came to a devastating surprise when it was announced he was a married man. This 'plain Jane', as many women in Gondor referred the lady Eowyn as, was a mystery to them. How could she have possibly convinced the eldest son of the late steward to bind himself to her when they there were so many fairer women to have in his own homeland?

Ever since their marriage, Eowyn noticed that many of the high born woman seemed intent on splitting them apart (though they've had no real success so far). Sitting at the dinning table, Eowyn watched as lady Eilfgiva took every opportunity to flirt and touch Boromir as she spoke animatedly about whatever came to mind. Boromir's smiles were thin, yet managed to maintain their politeness when he spoke. He pretended well enough that she seemed oblivious to the fact that he wanted to get away. When Eilfgiva did not appear to be going anywhere soon, his eyes switched to her in a silent plead for rescue. With a groan, she made her way across the room toward them.

Lady Eilfgiva pressed her lips together in obvious disappointment at her arrival. Eowyn ignored it and smiled pleasantly. Boromir's hand found hers and their fingers intertwined, a silent but reassuring touch was all it took to assuage her irrational and jealous fears. "Lady Eilfgiva, I have the pleasure of presenting my wife, lady Eowyn of Rohan," He introduced her with pride.

Lady Eilfgiva regarded Eowyn as if she was not there. She turned her fan to the side with a flourish. "How lovely to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Eowyn," She gestured to her belly. "When does this lovely flower bloom?" Eowyn placed a hand upon her stomach when she felt a slight bit of movement. "As soon as next week I believe," She replied. Eilfgiva hummed flatly in response as she regarded their affection for one another. Knowing she'd been momentarily defeated, she looked to Boromir with a forced smile. "Well, I must be going now, but I wish you both the best."

"Thank you your ladyship," Boromir replied, his hand unconsciously tightening around Eowyn's. "It means a great deal to me."


	72. Strawberry Fantasy

**Title:**  Strawberry Fantasy

**Summary:**  "Lovely girl. Tastes like… like strawberries." An eighteen year old Eowyn catches Boromir eating strawberries.

**Prompt:**  72 "Taste"

**Word count:**  311

* * *

Eowyn stumbled upon a rather surprising sight, one she really hadn't expected to find in his bedroom (of all places). In her search for a quiet place to read, she found Boromir in his temporary quarters, humming. He sat on the edge of the bed, a handful of strawberries in his hand. He chewed one each after the other as he popped them into his mouth with obvious pleasure. A smile played on his lips as he tapped his foot to a beat that only he could hear.

For all the time she had known him, Eowyn had never seen him so relaxed and ignorant to everything save the treat in his hand. Strawberries, Eowyn recounted, were sweet in their aroma and even sweeter on the tongue. Without really realizing it, she began to wonder if his lips would taste as sweet as strawberry. The fantasy unconsciously played out in her mind, she smiled inwardly at the mere thought of kissing him. "Eowyn?" Boromir's voice snapped her out of her reverie.

She stood a little straighter, folded her arms across her chest and donned a look of innocence. "Yes?" She asked, voice higher than she ever heard it before. Boromir regarded her flushed skin with concern. "Are you well? You look a bit… well, you look ill," He said. Eowyn bowed her head, placing a hand upon her cheek. They were warm and undoubtedly rosy. When she looked up Boromir was still watching her, his treat all but forgotten. Almost immediately her expression became indignant. Why was he staring at her like that? "I am not ill, I'm just a bit hot is all," Eowyn explained rather lamely, plucking at her collar.

Boromir still looked unconvinced, so she did the only thing she was sure to throw him off. She smiled pleasantly and asked, "May I have a strawberry?"


	73. Darkness

**Title:**  Darkness

**Summary:**  Boromir has an encounter with his father's seeing stone.

**Prompt:**  73 "Atonement"

**Word count:**  421

* * *

Boromir found it by accident. He was traveling the empty halls of the white tower when a gleam off a smooth surface caught his eye. He entered the dark room with caution as he slowly came to realize where he was. The ominous thing sat on a velvet pillow, beckoning him to come closer; its onyx surface gave it the appearance of an endless and all consuming presence. His hand reached out to touch it and in the next instant, his world spiraled out of control. Fire seared his mind and darkness stole the warmth and hope from his body. "Atonement will never be yours," A voice hissed, making him quiver.

His breathing halted, his knees buckled, he fell into the black abyss, the light before him became no bigger than a pinprick and a voice screamed in the distance. There was naught but nothingness for what seemed like an eternity, he floated aimlessly, avoiding the chill the seemed to want to cling to him and prayed for rescue. Another moment in forever seemed to pass before a sudden burst of warm light pulled him up from the murky depths, rescuing him from the needy clutches of the darkness. "Awake from the darkness my friend. Walk no more in its realm!" Aragorn's voice breathed life into his lungs. Where was he? Why couldn't he see anything? "Boromir! Boromir!" That voice. The dull thrum of his head and heart quickened, they icy chill fled at the sound of her voice, pulling him completely from the blackness. His eyes flew open with the first full breath he'd taken in what felt like years. Eowyn and Aragorn sat on either side of him, their hands upon his chest and face. He felt as weak as a newborn kitten. "What has happened? Eowyn-" He felt himself dip back into the darkness and reemerge feeling even weaker. "The voice-"

Aragorn shook his head. "There will be time for that later," He assured. "For now you must rest, the  _Palantir_  cannot harm you now." With a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, Aragorn rose from the bed and left their bedroom. Boromir looked to Eowyn for answers but found nothing except a pale face wet with tears. She leaned down and kissed his brow, warm spread through him again, making him drowsy. "There was a voice in my head- she said…" Eowyn shushed him with a kiss. "The voice was wrong, the voice doesn't mean anything," She said. Too woozy to protest, Boromir nodded.


	74. Admitting Mutual Affection

**Title:**  Admitting Mutual Affection

 **Summary:**  Eowyn ponders over a odd phrase

 **Prompt:**  74 "Pride and Prejudice"

 **Word count:**  165

* * *

"A regular 'Pride and Prejudice' couple they are," Eowyn heard someone say on her way to the throne room. The phrase gave her pause long enough for Idis to catch up to her. What on Middle-Earth did that necessarily mean? When she asked her cousin about it, she was all too happy oblige with the answer.

"Basically, it means some young couple are too stubborn to get out of their own way and simply admit to mutual affection for one another," She said. Eowyn nodded thoughtfully, pulling her cloak closer around her. "We were ever-?" Idis laughed a loud and rather irksome laugh. "Heavens no! Boromir was so unaware of your feelings for him, and his own for you, that you to kiss him just to make him realize it." She sighed. "I love the man, but sometimes he can be a bit-  _oblivious_  to his own emotions, especially when he wants to hide from them."

Eowyn felt herself smile. "Yes, that's true."

* * *

 **Authors Note:**  Sorry about the semi-delay. Heat Exhaustion is a bitch.


	75. Ringing

**Title:**  Ringing

 **Summary:**  [TTT] Boromir after the destruction of the deeping wall.

 **Prompt:**  75 "Blitz"

 **Word count:**  321

* * *

The blast came without any warning. Too caught up in his own messy battle, Boromir never noticed the berserker Uruk-Hai with the flaming torch in time to realize why Aragorn was shouting like a madman. The explosion alone was enough to knock him clear across the ramparts and into an offending crowd of Orc who were quick to toss him over the edge. With no way to stop himself, Boromir braced himself for the worse as the ground raced up to meet him. He blacked out, aware of nothing but the chaotic sounds of battle.

He came to moment later, ears ringing and his vision spinning. Stumbling to his feet, Boromir struggled to keep his balance and regain a solid line of thought. His double vision cleared, his mouth fell open in aghast at the sight of the gaping hole in the deeping wall. Uruks rushed the disoriented soldiers, man and elf alike, in a blitz, cutting down all who were unable to fend them off in time.

A howl of rage brought his attention back to the forefront his own concern. Several of the Uruk-Hai were rushing toward him, misshapen blades raised and ready for the kill. There was little time to wonder if his friends were still alive or if the enemy had made it any further than the breach. Acting on impulse, he ducked the first swing of the enemy's sword and grabbed the nearest weapon he could find. He slashed upward, the exposed skin of the Uruk's stomach was torn open, black blood sprayed the Captain-General, obscuring his vision momentarily. The Uruk-Hai crumbled to the ground, yelping like a wounded dog. His comrades stood in stunned silence, yellow eyes shifting from his corpse to the steely-eyed human that stood over him in triumph. As if to declare they did not fear him, they bolted forward.

Boromir was ready for them.


	76. A Conversation for the Lovelorn

**Title:**  A Conversation for the Lovelorn

**Summary:**  Eowyn and Boromir in the 18th Century, during the Napoleonic Wars.

**Prompt:**  76 "1813"

**Word Count:**  614

**Authors Note:**  An idea I got from reading/watching  _"Sharpe's Regiment"_. Historical accuracy is dubious.

* * *

"Uncle Theo, you wouldn't happen to know where I might find Ben?" Ella inquired, peering into the kitchen. Theodore looked up from the sink full of dishes with a nod. "Tending to the horses with your brother and cousin, I suspect," He said. Ella nodded and hurried out of the old farmhouse as fast as she could. Her feet carried her across the lawn to the back of the house where the stables resided.

She let out a sigh of relief when she spotted Ben leaning against the frame of the doorway of the half of the stables where the mares were kept separate from the stallions. Benjamin spotted her approach and glanced in the direction of Ted and Edmund; both men were too preoccupied with fixing their saddles to notice the arrival of their cousin and sister. He knew Ella worried whether or not he would into town to be recruited into his royal majesty's army.

He was tempted, God knows he was, but his courage had yet to catch up with his eagerness. So there he stood, sweaty and covered in dirt, watching the sway of Ella's gangly arms. 1813 was fast becoming a good year for the British army, who were pushing the French out of Spain and making their way into France. Ben hoped to be apart of their success before it was all over. Ben knew Ella was both excited and offended by the idea of war, yet found himself unable to communicate his desire for wanting to go. He never knew which part of her would agree or disagree with him.

"There you are," Ella fixed him a smile and kissed him on the cheek. Ben blushed, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. "Good afternoon miss," He greeted. "Just taking a small break." Ella pardoned his explanation with a dismissive wave of her hand. It made little or no difference to her what he was doing with his time. Ben worked hard enough around her uncle's farm that a brief moment to himself should have been allowed. Uncle Theo always feared such lax behavior would instill laziness in man. Ben seemed immune to laziness in her opinion, however.

"Ella! Come to work have you, sister?" Edmund's voice startled Ben away from her. Ella frowned as she watched him duck back inside the stable. She shot her brother a disapproving glare. "I've done my work for the day, thank you very much," Ella responded. Edmund chuckled at her expression. Thomas nudged his cousin in the ribs. "Oi, let her alone, Ed," He grinned, watching Ella venture inside the stables.

Ella found Ben sitting on the stool next to the wall. He kept his gaze focused on the palms of his callused hands as she approached him. "I hate it when he does that," She sighed. When he did not answer, she said, "How are Frank and Miss Felicity?"

"They're alright," Ben answered. He glanced in her direction finally, watching her walk slowly back and forth across the space between them, daring to get closer to him. Reaching over, she placed a hand on the back of his and watched as his right hand grasped hers. Ella smiled at his reaction. "Walk with me?" She asked. Ben hesitated for a moment. He cast a wary glance behind her, obviously taking into consideration still who resided outside the stables. "Please?" Ella tugged at his arm, pouting her lips for affect. Finally, he caved in. "Alright. But, just for a bit," He said. Ella grinned happily at his response. She pulled him off the stool and they proceeded out of the barn.

* * *

**Cast of Characters:**

**Present:**  Ella - Eowyn / Ben (Benjamin) - Boromir / Theo (Theodore) - Théoden / Tom (Thomas) - Theodred / Edmund - Eomer

**Mentioned:**  Frank - Faramir / Finny (Felicity) - Finduilas


	77. January 17th, 3019

**Title:**  January 17th, 3019

**Summary:**  [FOTR] Eowyn and Boromir's perspective of the 17th of January.

**Prompt:**  77 "3019"

**Word count:** 414

* * *

(Rohan):

* * *

Sitting at her table, Eowyn stared down at the map of Middle Earth with forlorn eyes. She tried to imagine what path Boromir would take up into the Misty Mountains to reach the fabled realm of Imladris. She tried to imagine what he could've encountered that would leave him without the aid of their horse, which returned to Edoras without its rider.

Eomer, Theodred and Wormtongue (with the latter appearing all too apathetic toward the entire situation) believed he had fallen along the way to his destination. Some part of her feared this possibility as well, but she hoped against despair that he was safe inside the elven city, finding the answer to his dreams. She sighed as the sun peered through her window, reminding her of the duties she had to attend. It was almost time to see to the king, her uncle. Rising from her chair, Eowyn proceeded back to her bed for a nap.

* * *

(Lothlórien):

* * *

Boromir's mind was restless as he laid down on his bedroll. Grief, exhaustion and fear cloyed at his nerves, making him uneasy in an otherwise peaceful environment. He tossed and turned until the knot of the tree root seemed to retreat into the soil beneath him. He hated and loved this so-called paradise, it made his skin crawl; He was clearly unwelcome. They never said it, but he could see it in their eyes and in their manner toward him. Unlike the others - with the only exception being maybe Gimli - Boromir did not belong here and no drop of Elf blood in his family would change that. He almost wished that he'd let Faramir take on this dreadful mission, but it had been his fervent wish that he would be the one to go.

In hindsight, he was beginning to believe his decision had been a foolish one, yet he knew he would do it again if it meant his brother was 'safe' and he was able to see Eowyn at least one more time. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize her face. She stood before him in his mind's eye as a blur of colors; blue, blonde and brown, moving toward him with a speed so fast he had no time to react. Their lips touched and he felt the sleeping desire inside him was born anew all over again. He could still remember the happy smile on her face before she left his temporary quarters.


	78. Due Dates

**Title:**  Due Dates

**Summary:**  Birth of Miriel, Firiel and Léod.

**Prompt:**  78 "Birth"

**Word Count:**  819

* * *

(Miriel - December 14th, 3019):

* * *

Eowyn's labor with Miriel had been sudden and without warning. She and Boromir had gone to bed after a particularly long talk about nothing and everything that crossed their minds, uneager to greet the next day. Eowyn lay on her side as close as she could be next to Boromir when she felt her water break. There had been no contractions to signify she gone into labor, no sharp pains. Nothing, except the uncomfortable feeling of liquid trailing down her legs and onto the bed.

Eowyn sat up so fast it made her dizzy, she grabbed a hold of Boromir's arm and shook him until decided to move. "What?" His response had come out harsher than he indented, but he was rarely a man of polite demeanor when woken in such abrupt manner. Eowyn tried to keep her own temper in check as she said, "My water broke." Whatever irritation Boromir may have felt toward her was gone with those three simple words.

He stumbled out of the bed and lit a candle before making a hasty retreat from the bedroom. Eowyn hoped he'd gone to fetch the midwife and had not gone somewhere to faint. Boromir was not absent for three minutes before the unfamiliar pain of contractions began. Eowyn doubled over in pain with a gasp, fingers clutching the sheets in agony. The pain grew worse the stronger and more frequent the contractions became. Eowyn bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out. Few moments later, Boromir returned to the bedroom with the midwife Alfild, pale faced and out of breath.

As soon as he was close, she grabbed his arm and held onto him like a life preserver. "I want to push!" Eowyn growled and Alfild shook her head. "It's too soon, my lady," She said. "Just a little longer." Eowyn pressed her face against Boromir's shoulder, leaning against him for support. 'A little longer' seemed to stretch into an eternity before Alfild demeaned it safe to push. Eowyn did as she was bid, aided by strongest contraction she experienced. The scream came unbidden from her mouth, long and excruciating. In a matter minutes Miriel was ushered from her womb, she had a scream to match her mothers. Eowyn felt her pain fade into the background the moment their newborn child was placed in her arms.

* * *

(November 10th, 1422 - Firiel and Léod):

* * *

With the twins, it had been slower and much more surprising. No expected Eowyn was carrying twins, despite her unusual size. Boromir had returned to their bedroom that afternoon to find Eowyn hunched over in the rocking chair, moaning and riding out the contractions. Acting quickly, he grabbed the nearest chambermaid he could find and ordered her to find Ioreth. Frightened into action, the chambermaid hurried down the hall and out of sight.

Returning to the bedroom, Boromir helped her out of the chair and placed her in the center of the bed. She wept openly into his shoulder, fingers clutching at his arms. The pain was unlike what she had experienced before and Boromir could do nothing except hold her and promise it would be over soon enough. Finally, Ioreth and two more women appeared in the bedroom, ready to help. They were hard pressed to separate Eowyn from her husband; she wanted him to be near to support her. However, to his and Eowyn's dismay, he would have to wait outside. "She must focus on the birth and she cannot do that with you to worry about," The door slammed close before he argue otherwise.

Aragorn and Arwen arrived a while latter, providing what support they could. The afternoon well into the evening before the wail of baby was heard, but the door did not open. Eowyn continued to cry out in agony. Shaken with fear of the worse, Boromir sat crouched against the wall across from the door and prayed for the life of his wife and child. An hour or so later another wail split the air and the door opened. "Great news, her ladyship as given birth to twins!" Ioreth declared.  _Twins?_  The concept seemed foreign to him. Arwen's hand rested upon his shoulder, shaking him out of his stupor. "Go to her," She whispered, smiling. Boromir stood and proceeded to the bedroom on wobbly legs. He found Eowyn reclined against a mound of pillows, two bundles in her arms. She smiled weakly up at him as he sat on the edge of the bed. He thought to ask about her welfare, but a simple gesture of her arms brought his attention to the twins that rested in her arms. A boy and a girl, the spitting image of their parents. He could have cried enough for all them that day, he was so overwhelmed with love. "They're beautiful," He breathed. "So beautiful."


	79. Pray for Life

**Title:**  Pray for Life

**Summary:**  Eowyn falls victim to the fever and fears for her family.

**Prompt** : 79 "Death"

**Word Count:**  376

* * *

It was getting progressively worse as the week drew on. Eowyn could barely quail her own fears as news of the fever's return to Gondor began to circulate and manifest in the city's citizens. Knowing how grievous the death toll had been the last time, when Elessar had barely been king for a year, Eowyn worried for her husband. Given their ages, sixty and seventy-seven, Eowyn wanted to leave as soon as it was made clear that there was no a trace of the fever in their system. "Perhaps we can visit Eomer Lothíriel until this passes," She suggested one night. Boromir nodded absentmindedly as he flipped through his book. Eowyn reminded herself to run the suggestion past him again when he was not so preoccupied.

However, she would never get the chance to do so. The next day, she woke with a pain in her chest and a terrible headache. The fever had somehow managed to creep up on her without warning and seize her. Boromir fretted over her, wanting to play an active role in her recovery, but the king would not have it. He would have to leave the city with their children until it was deemed safe to return. Eowyn had not seen him since he'd taken her to the Houses of Healing; she hadn't seen anyone besides the healers tending to her and the others who'd fallen ill.

She dreaded what was to come as the illness grew in her strength and her ability to fight against it weakened. The fear of leaving her family behind, particularly Boromir, dominated her thoughts. Eowyn could rely on her children to carry on without her, but Boromir would crumble from her loss (and she had no doubts she would do the same if their situation were different). Her greatest fear was that he would become the shell of a man his father became after the death of his wife. "Please, do not take me yet," Eowyn would whisper into the night. "Let me stay at his side for a while longer. Please." In the silence, Eowyn would wait for a sign that she'd been heard, unaware that Boromir would making the same request of the gods.


	80. Hidden from the Enemy

**Title:**  Hidden from the Enemy

**Summary:**  [TTT] A tale inspired by the unused scene featuring Eowyn and the Uruk in the glittering caves.

**Prompt:**  80 "Hide and Seek"

**Word count:**  274

* * *

A little game of hide and seek is what the fowl creature called it. Eowyn could not help the small tremor of fear that slithered down her spine as she listened to the ragged breathing of the Uruk-Hai. In the chaos that followed Théoden's charge, the enemy made it inside the caves. They sniffed about for the refugees, whom were being lead through the secret passage to safety.

Eowyn remained behind until the last group of her people was well on their way out of the caves. She did not count on facing an Orc and was shortly at a loss for what to do. "Come out, moppet," He snarled in what she assumed was a playful voice. "You smell quite lovely." Eowyn clutched the handle of the sword, she could smell him - she could tell he was just a look away around the stone foundation she hid behind. She knew exactly where to hit him to bring him down.

Eowyn would never forget the lesson Theodred taught her at the mere age of fifteen. The bent face of the Uruk appeared around the corner, his neck exposed and gleaming with filth. Eowyn pushed away from the wall and swung her sword toward the enemy. The sword entered the beast's neck awkwardly. His face froze in an odd look of pain and shock before he fell to the ground. Eowyn watched with detached curiosity as blood oozed from his neck and down the blade. She glanced down at her hands, they tingled and felt heavy, but never once did she regret taking the "life" from the monster.

Why should she?


	81. Sunrise

**Title:**  Sunrise

 **Summary:**  A moody Boromir observes the dawn of a new day in Edoras.

 **Prompt:**  81 "Upset"

 **Word count:**  380

* * *

There was nothing quite like the song of a bird. It provided a kind of backdrop for the mind when one wanted to be alone and think without interruption. He sat on the edge of the path that lead to the large double-doors of Meduseld, watching the blue of the early morning fade into the yellow of the waking world. The sun blossomed below his line of sight, he watched the birds fly around in each other in a half-circle before moving on to rejoin their group. "Beautiful day," Her voice startled him to attention.

Eowyn stood next to him, a cloak around her shoulders to ward off the chill he seemed so immune to. Boromir regarded her unusually chipper expression with a frown. Where did she come from? "For now, I suppose," He replied. The happy glow of Eowyn's face dimmed a little at his response, she studied the frown on his face and wondered if the lines of his face had become deeper since his thirty-fifth birthday. "You seem upset, Boromir," She stated kneeling down next to him. "What's the matter?"

Boromir shook his head, lips pressed together in resignation as he stared out into space. "Nowt," He muttered. Eowyn quirked an eyebrow at his response, thoroughly unconvinced that nothing was bothering him. "You're a terrible liar my lord," She said, unable to hide her smile. Boromir shrugged the truth of her words off. He was unable to loose the reason for his less than cheerful mood from his lips to express to her with his usual frankness. Therefore, he decided to change the subject. "I hear your birthday is on the horizon," Boromir stated carelessly. "Yes, three months from now," She smiled. "Whatever shall you get me?"

Boromir shifted his attention down toward the village. "A shield fit for a maiden."

"Oh, joy, another shield," Eowyn did not bother to hide her sarcasm. Boromir gave her a sideways glance, the ghost of a smile played on his lips. "Well, what would you like for your birthday your ladyship?" He asked. "A beautiful dress made of the finest silk perhaps?" Eowyn pretended to think upon the suggestion then smiled. "Yes. Yes, I would like that very much," She said with a laugh.


	82. Of Sleeping and Habits

**Title:**  Of Sleeping and Habits

**Summary:**  Boromir muses over Eowyn's bedtime habits.

**Prompt:**  82 "Silk"

**Word count:**  334

* * *

There were some things that Boromir had yet to grow accustom to with Eowyn. Since she began to sleep him (in secret), he was slow to accept the fact that he no longer had the rule of roost. Space was limited on the bed unfit for two bodies to sleep on and Eowyn kicked in her sleep as if she were fending off a wild dog. Sometimes it was from the dreams she would not speak to him about, other times it was done out of habit.

Either way, Boromir hated it. Another irksome quality about Eowyn was that she liked to sleep rather closely to him; He would wake up sometimes to find himself immobilized by her limbs, wrapped around his waist and legs, as though they were two halves of a whole, perfectly suited for each other. He enjoyed it sometimes, the feeling of being so close to her body. Other times he wanted his space. She did not mind, of course. Eowyn was more than glad to give him space, for it enabled another habit.

Eowyn liked to watch him sleep for hours on end; he knew because he could feel her eyes on him all the time, along with the delicate fingers tracing the scars on his back. "You sleep so deeply, sometimes," She whispered, almost worriedly. "It's a wonder you even know you're being watched at all." He knew, however. The life of a soldier did not offer the luxury of oblivion toward one's environment, even in intervals of peace.

If she stared long enough, his eyes would open to look upon the face of a happy, but tired young woman, whose silk hair spilled over her shoulders and tickled his nose if she was close enough. He would stare back for a moment as if to question what she was doing up, Eowyn would say nothing in response.

Closing his eyes, he would wait to drift back to sleep and Eowyn would resume her vigil.


	83. The Ivory Box

**Title:**  The Ivory Box

**Summary:**  Boromir finds Eowyn in his late father's bedroom.

**Prompt:**  83 "Jewels"

**Word count:**  359

* * *

"What are you doing in here?" Eowyn nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. She hadn't expected to be in the room for as long as she had been. The fear of upsetting him kept her sensitive to every sound outside the bedroom, but one glimpse at the ivory box sitting on the dresser and nothing seemed to matter anymore. As handsome as Boromir was, he was never a pleasant man to look upon when he became angry.

Eowyn looked down at the box the same time as he did, Boromir's eyebrow twitched slightly. The last thing he expected was to find Eowyn snooping about in his father's bedroom. Where did she even get the key? As his mind went on with teetering between misunderstanding and hurt at the reminder of what was lost, Eowyn opened the box, revealing a jumble of old and tarnished jewels. "I did not mean to pry, honest," She said. "I just saw this box and felt compelled to look." Boromir stared down at the open box with nostalgic eyes, yet he refused to let himself be pulled into that particular stream of memories. "Do you like them?" He asked, surprising himself with the strange calm in his voice. Eowyn searched his face for any trace of the previous disapproval before she allowed her self to answer. "Y-yes, they're beautiful," She replied. "They were your mothers?"

He nodded. "They were." Eowyn traced the raised rope design around the edges of the jewelry box slowly, trying to imagine how much use the objects inside might've gotten before they became relics. Biting the inside of her mouth she tossed a strand of hair from her face. "Will you tell me about her?" She inquired carefully. "About Finduilas?"

Boromir seemed hesitant to answer. "There isn't a lot I remember about her." Eowyn closed the jewelry box gently and placed it back on the dresser. "It matters little me what much you remember of her, only that do." She reached out to take his hand which he gave to her without question. "What was she like?"


	84. Tight-lipped

**Title:**  Tight-lipped

**Summary:**  A tale of a very angry Boromir and a concerned Faramir.

**Prompt:**  84 "Disagreeable"

**Word count:**  293

* * *

Their father didn't seem to notice, but Faramir knew his brother well enough to recognize when he was angry. He'd been in a sour mood since his return from Rohan and anyone keen enough to spot the blaze of fury behind his façade of polite smiles and laughs, had no way of knowing what caused it. No except Faramir, of course (the others dare not ask him anyway, in fear of being snapped at).

When Faramir decided to visit his brother's bedroom, he found him scribbling away in his journal, eyebrows drawn together in apparent frustration just waiting to boil over. Boromir stopped writing long enough to regard his brother who watched him through the cracked door. Without a word spoken he returned to his writing, acting as if Faramir wasn't there at all. The younger brother slipped inside and made himself comfortable at the end of the bed, folding his legs so that he could rest his elbows upon his thighs.

"Something gnaws at your brother,"

"How perceptive of you, Faramir,"

"Will you not tell me what it is?"

Boromir continued to write a little while longer in his journal before answering. "It's that bloody girl," He grounded out. Faramir rifled through his memory for any girl (or woman) that might've caused grievous offence against his brother. "The lass from the tavern?" Faramir ventured. Boromir dropped his quill and gave his brother a long and simmering look. "No, not the lass from the tavern. Lady Eowyn," He declared.  _Oh, that girl._  Faramir did his best to conceal the resignation in his sigh. "What has she done now to offend you so?" Faramir inquired, eager to hear another sweeping tale of the disagreeable Eowyn of Rohan.


	85. Foreplay

**Title:**  Foreplay

**Summary:**  Eowyn initiates a game of footsie with Boromir.

**Prompt:**  85 "Footsie"

**Word Count:**  435

* * *

It took a moment for them to gather their wits about them again. Eowyn couldn't believe how massive the city was. Paintings and description alone didn't do it justice. They made their way through the winding levels until the sixth level was finally reached. From there, Eowyn, Eomer and their escort wee lead into the temporary quarters where they prepared themselves for the meeting with the Steward. Eowyn fretted over her appearance many times over as she studied her body in the full-length mirror.

She pinched her cheeks in a vain attempt to flush them with color, her hands smoothed her dress and wild blonde locks down more times than she count. Eomer pretended not to notice as he fixed his own hair into a pony tail. When the time came, they met with Denethor and his sons in the dinning hall. Eowyn felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of Boromir. He spared her a brief glance and a warm smile before falling back into his stoic expression. She felt her throat constrict when Denethor sent his eldest a sidelong glance. Eowyn hoped he did not suspect anything.

Once they were situated at the table, Eomer jumped to the reason of their visit, one that engrossed all at the table save Eowyn. Unconsciously, her leg stretched out and her foot touched his. Boromir sat a little straighter and cleared his throat softly; she almost smiled at the admonishing look he gave her. With a twist of her foot, her slipper fell to the floor, sliding forward slightly in her chair, her foot proceeded up leg with her toes serving as claws to scratch at the fabric of his pants. Not one to be upstaged, Boromir joined her in the game of footsie, maintaining a deadly serious expression as he exchanged words in the ongoing conversation.

Eowyn frowned when she felt his foot relax back onto the floor, he'd been momentarily distracted by his drink. Lifting her leg she slid her foot across the top of his thigh, taking a sip of her own beverage. She watched delightedly as his Adams apple fluxed nervously and his eyes widen in surprise. "Steady on lass," Eowyn could imagine him saying. Boromir readjusted himself in his chair. The all too familiar feeling of stiffness below made him feel ill at ease in the presence of his family. He glanced at her but she kept her expression placid, feigning interest in the conversation of men. Doing his best to maintain face as he listened on, his foot resumed its flirtatious game with hers.


	86. Preparation and Envy

**Title:**  Preparation and Envy

**Summary:**  Eowyn assists Idis in getting ready for her birthday and the arrival of Boromir.

**Prompt:**  86 "Presents"

**Word count:** 286

* * *

"What do you think he'll like better? The wine or the white colored dress?" Idis held both dresses out for observation, shaking both so as to get her cousin's attention. Eowyn finally looked up from her book, an eyebrow raised in disinterest. "Well, which one?"

"I don't think he'll care either way, cousin. A dress is a dress to a man. 'Tis nothing an obstacle in the way of their true objectives." Idis almost looked hurt by her comment. "Have a care, dearest. Boromir is a man of virtue. He would not do me the dishonor. Besides, he's quite shy around women if I do say so myself."

"Shy? Scared is more like it. The poor git looks like he wants to jump out a window when in the presence of a woman. Especially yours." Eowyn made an attempt to look bored as she cleaned her nails. "It's no wonder why he isn't married."

"Oh, I hear it's because he favors the life of a solider a little too much," Idis commented carelessly. "No matter, though, for I plan to change all of that nonsense." The underline implication, that which she would never act on, did not go unnoticed by Eowyn. She watched as her cousin slipped on the snow white dress - a dress they often shared - and turn her back toward the mirror. Idis beamed at her with that innocent smile of hers and for a moment Eowyn felt a pang of envy and anger toward her cousin. "What sort of presents do you think he'll give me? It is my birthday after all."

"Something to your tastes I'm sure," Eowyn assured her without conviction.


	87. Laying the blame

**Title:** Laying the blame

**Summary:**  A vase has been broken and Boromir assumes the obvious suspects.

**Prompt:**  87 "Refuted"

**Word Count:**  237

* * *

Boromir stared down at the jagged pieces of clay with a mixture of dismay and disappointment. Before him stood three guilty faces, two of them hiding behind the eldest. "Right then, who broke it?" He asked with an eerie calm. Léod, Firiel, and Miriel shook their heads, eyes wide with practiced innocence. Of course, they would deny the truth, he thought with a frown. It was only a natural for a child to do so. The warnings their parents gave them when they fell out of line disciplined them as much as they silenced them.

Boromir didn't believe an unspoken word between them. "So the vase just tipped over and broke on its own?" Boromir said. The trio started to nod when Eowyn entered the room. "Oh, no," She sighed, hurrying toward them. "I thought I could clean this up before you saw it." She patted Firiel's head. "Hello my dears."

Their children huddled around their mother like ducklings, eager for her attention and protection. Boromir regarded his wife with a perplexed expression. "You broke the vase?" He blurted. "Yes, but it was an accident you see. I wasn't looking where I was going and I bumped the vase." She smiled guiltily. "Can you forgive me for my clumsiness?" Eowyn spoke with such sincerity that her request couldn't be refuted.

"Of course." What else could he say when she smiled like that?


	88. Disposition

**Title: Disposition**

**Summary:**  Eowyn reflects on her relationship with Boromir.

**Prompt:**  88 "Skin"

**Word count:**  310

* * *

For someone who was hesitant to return her affections, if only for propriety's sake, Eowyn would soon learn that once he was allowed to acknowledge his own feelings, Boromir was every bit of sweet as he was tough. Eowyn was surprised by the absolute difference in him from the simple admission of his feelings. If she touched him, he would not pull away. If she hugged him for the entire world to see, he would hug her back. He wasn't quite used to her brand of teasing, still mistaking it for faultfinding, but he was learning to adapt. There was a certain face he maintained for the public, but the little things he did when in the company of others let her know what was between them was no farce.

Some, of course, couldn't understand his attraction toward her; this young and seemingly fragile girl who would often forget her place when concerned with the affairs of men, or even what she saw in him; the proud and stubborn man with a forceful personality deemed too overbearing for any sort lasting relationship with a woman.

Eowyn paid their bafflement little or no mind. They didn't know what it felt like to be held by him, to be comforted when she felt glum. He was her friend and she was his. To her, that allowed them the kind of intimacy that would've only been achieved through months of awkward fumbling of getting to know one another through arranged marriage between strangers.

There was no hesitation or awkwardness been them when they laid together, his skin against hers. No shame when they walked together, hand in hand, exchanging stories or histories learned over the span of their lifetime. All that truly mattered was the bond shared between them and the future that lay ahead of them.


	89. Passing Phantoms

**Title: Passing Phantoms**

**Summary:**  In the year 1462, Boromir came to death by illness; Eowyn would soon follow.

**Prompt:**  89: "Red Book"

**Word count:**  374

* * *

It has been said that his passing was an unexpected one, when in truth, his beloved wife suspected he was ill for some time. He hid it from her, of course, pretending his dizzy spells and lack of focus was from a lack of sleep, when she knew he'd be neglecting his meals as well. She tried to pry the truth out of him, but all she received was avoidance and a different subject altogether. It made her angry on more than one occasion; however, he failed to be affronted by her anger.

Three weeks after his eighty-fourth birthday, Boromir began to succumb to the illness he long since ignored and tried avoided speaking about altogether. During the hottest summer of July 1462, he overcome by the heat, allowing the illness to sap him of his strength. The healers did all they could to lower his temperature, but to no avail. Eowyn (her children, his brother and their friends) could do nothing except watch as Boromir slipped away from them, muttering feverish nonsense. All of her time was spent in a hardback chair, a hand on his and a book in the other, hoping her voice would chase away the endless nightmares he suffered. It seemed to work; the mere sound of her voice, smooth and alluring, calmed him for the duration that she was next to him. Eowyn prayed it was sign that he would recover.

However, in the early hours of the morning on the 31st of July, Boromir passed away in his sleep and Eowyn couldn't be comforted that day. She withdrew from her children and friends after his funeral, locking herself in their room. Surrounded by the memories of their life together, she wondered if this was how her mother felt when her father died. Half of what she used to be, sickened by the knowledge that he would not return to her in this life. For six long months, she wandered Minas Tirith like a ghost, waiting for death to claim her, the pleads of her family were ignored. Thus, it is written in the red book, Eowyn daughter of Eomund, passed from middle-earth on a sunny May 25th, barely a year after her husband.


	90. To be Missed

**Title: To be Missed**

**Summary:**  Boromir and Eowyn reunite after a long absence.

Prompt: 90 "Loved"

Word Count: 393

* * *

Boromir tried not to laugh at her excitement as she wrapped her legs around his waist and peppered feverish kisses up and down his face. He sat on the edge of the bed, balancing his weight and hers without trouble. He'd only been gone for a month, but he wasn't the only one who felt the distance between them, apparently. When she finished kissing him dizzy, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his. "I've missed you so much," Eowyn smiled.

"I've missed you," Boromir repeated, running his hands up the exposed part of her back. Eowyn sighed pleasantly into his ear; her right hand clutched his tunic for dear life while her left ran its fingers through his hair. She knew he loved it when she did that, he became absolute putty in her hands. Drawing away from him, Eowyn took the time to commit his features to memory. He did the same. "How was your trip? Was it pleasant?" She asked. Boromir groaned, falling back on the bed. Eowyn let out a yelp of delight as he flopped her onto the bed. He hovered over her, smiling mischievously. "Pleasant enough, I suppose. Uncle Imrahil was glad to receive me, he even asked after your wellbeing."

"You say that as if he thinks lowly of me."

"Well, I know he does not think lowly of you, simply that you've chosen me, I suppose." He frowned a little. "How were things here?"

"Pleasant enough, I suppose," Eowyn repeated mockingly. "Though I digress, the view from our window has been rather gray until now." She reached up to trace his jaw, a fond smile playing on her lips. "I would not worry with your uncle thinks. Come here." Boromir lowered himself next to her with a grunt. Eowyn propped herself up on her elbows. "Lie on your back." He did as he was told and she crawled over him. "Close your eyes."

Boromir started to ask why, but a firm look from his wife to be silenced him. He relaxed, his eyes slid shut and for a moment, there was silence until he felt her lips press against his Adams apple. The sound of heart racing filled his ears; he swallowed nervously as he enjoyed Eowyn's kisses.

It was good to be home.


	91. The Waiting Game

**Title: The Waiting Game**

**Summary:**  Boromir waits to be received by his grieving wife.

**Prompt:**  91 "Funeral"

**Word count:**  169

* * *

"How is she?" Faramir's voice was like a bell in the quiet hallway, startling him out of his stupor. Boromir looked away from his hands, wrinkled and callused from age, to regard his brother. How was she? He turned his gaze toward her bedroom door and felt tears sting his eyes. "I would not know. She has not spoken to me since his funeral," He replied.

Faramir sat next to his brother on the floor, groaning at the ache forming his back. He was getting too old to be doing this sort of thing anymore. "Will you not go to her? Comfort her as her brother would've if he were still alive?"

Boromir shook his head. "She will not receive me until she is ready," Boromir whispered. "When the door opens, I will go to her. But not a minute before that."

Faramir regarded the closed door with sad eyes. If he listened hard enough he would able to hear the sound of Eowyn's repressed sobs.


	92. Misused Words

**Title: Misused Words**

**Summary:**  Miriel wonders about a word often used by her father.

**Prompt:**  92 "Eru"

**Word count:**  274

* * *

Eowyn breathed slowly in and out, as Ioreth taught her, hoping it would calm the odd excitement floundering in her belly. How could a baby move as thought it were in two places at once inside the womb? Groaning, she pressed herself against the headboard. Today had no been a particularly good day for Eowyn; she woke that morning feeling ill and lightheaded.

The bedroom door opened and instead of Boromir, it was their daughter, Miriel. She skipped merrily across the floor toward the bed, humming a composition of her own creation. "Hullo, mummy," Miriel waved, stopping at the end of the bed. "Hello, Miriel," Eowyn greeted in return. "Where's your father?"

"Speaking to Mr. Aragorn-" She paused, wincing. "I mean, speaking to the king Elessar," Miriel corrected herself. "Mama?"

Eowyn looked up from her stomach, eyebrows raised. "Yes?" Miriel struggled up onto the bed, using her mother's leg as leverage to pull herself up. Lying on her stomach, Miriel propped herself up on her elbows, hands cupping her cheeks. "What does 'Eru' mean?" She asked. "Is it a swearing word?"

Eowyn shook her head slowly, wincing when the baby pressed down on her bladder. "No, Eru is the name of the creator of Elves and Men. Part of his name anyhow," Eowyn added. "His full name is Eru Iluvatar." Miriel pondered the information provided for less than a moment before she asked, "If Eru is a good person, why does papa call his name it when he's upset?"

A look of dry amusement graced Eowyn's tired features as she smiled. "Your father can be a bit silly sometimes, dearest."


	93. Uneasy Introductions

**Title: Uneasy Introductions**

**Summary:**  Boromir and Eowyn's first meeting isn't a pleasant one.

**Prompt:**  93 "Eowyn, age 8"

**Word Count: 395**

* * *

Upon his arrival to Edoras, Boromir had not expected to be greeted by Theodred and two young charges. "My aunt's children," He said by way of explanation. Theodred placed a hand upon the shoulder of the little girl whose large blue eyes reminded him of his brother at that age.

Boromir nodded his head in greeting. "How do you do?" He said. "Very well, sir, thank you," Came the boy. "Eomer, son of Eomund is my name. And this is Eowyn." Boromir followed Eomer's hand toward the wild eyed girl who's hair looked worthy of a bird's nest it was scraggly. He pretended to study her for a moment, and then grinned. "Eowyn? 'Tis a strange name for a girl."

Theodred chuckled good-naturedly, Eowyn shot him a look that silenced him immediately. She turned to face Boromir with a frown that would have been intimidating had she'd been a little older. "It is no stranger than Boromir. If I didn't know any better, you mother named you after a pig," Eowyn snapped.

"I don't believe there such a pig named "Boromir"," He remarked dryly, playing innocent. "Have you heard of it, Theo?"

"I cannot - oomph - I can't say that I have," Theodred answered, before tending to the sore spot in his arm where Eowyn's little fist had hit him. It was hard to feel anything but amused by such a squeaky voice, but Boromir was smart enough to know he had insulted the girl and apologies had to be made. "Apologies your ladyship, I spoke out of turn," He said with practiced ease. "It is good to make your acquaintances."

Eomer nodded understandingly, Eowyn folded her arms in quiet objection, the apology would only be half accepted it would seem. Theodred gave his friend a friendly wink. "Now that that's out of the way, what say you all to a meal? I'm starved." All three men agreed to seek out a meal, but Eowyn was not so quick to forgive and forget. "Perhaps later, Cousin Theo, I'm tired. May I go my room?" She asked.

"Of course, Eowyn."

"Thank you, cousin," The girl spared Boromir one last withering look before proceeding into the hall toward the hallway.  _The nerve of that man_ , she thought. She would have words with her uncle, then they would see who was laughing in the end.  _Strange name indeed!_


	94. Time is Short

**Title: Time is Short**

**Summary:**  Eowyn and Boromir have a secret rendezvous in Minas Tirith.

**Prompt:**  94 "Escapade"

**Word Count:**  403

* * *

Eowyn waited for what seemed like an eternity. She listened to the noises outside her bedroom door until they became further and further apart. Soon the sun was low behind the mountains and activity became sparse. Closing her book, Eowyn climbed out of the bed and tiptoed across the floor. Opening the door slowly she glanced about to find the hall devoid of people.

Biting her lip, she slipped out of the room and closed the door. She hurried down the corridor, sticking close to the walls, counting the number of doors along the way. Turning the corner, Eowyn picked up the pace, hands unconsciously fluffing her hair. Before she reached the door, it opened to reveal Boromir. Eowyn had to contain her cry of happiness when she threw herself into his arms. He stumbled back into the room, surprised by the sudden shift in weight and a balance as he kicked the door shut. "Oh, I thought night would never come," she breathed, "I am too late?"

Boromir shook his head as he cupped her face. "No, your right on time," He said. Eowyn allowed herself to giggle at the dreamy expression on his face. Never would she have ever believed herself to resort to such a means of escape to meet him. Denethor, however, made it very clear to both partiers that a marriage between his first-born and Théoden's sister-daughter would not be an advantageous one. Were it not for their affection for one another, such a decision could have been accepted without trouble.

Boromir lifted her from the ground as a husband would his bride; wrapping her arms around his neck, she nuzzled his nose with hers. "We haven't much time, love," Boromir stated. "What would you like to do?" Eowyn pondered his question for a moment. Outside the storm clouds gathered around the shadowy mountains as if to signify the Dark Lord's disgust toward the display of love between the couple.

"Tell me a story," Eowyn said as he laid her on the bed. He smiled at her innocent request. "What would you like to hear?" He said, hoping she didn't hear the nervousness in his voice. He hadn't told a story since Faramir was a child and even then, his storytelling skills were limited to battles and tragic heroes. Eowyn reached up to brush the hair from his eyes. "Describe Minas Tirith to me. Show me how you alone see her every detail," She whispered.


	95. Unexpected News

**Title:**  Unexpected News

**Summary:**  Boromir goes to tell a 16-year-old Eowyn the fate of her cousin, Theodred.

**Prompt:**  95 "Moonlit"

**Word Count: 247**

* * *

A quiet night was something he'd become unaccustomed to in Edoras. Like Minas Tirith, Meduseld in particular was a lively place into the later part of the evening, especially when the children were put into bed. The moonlit bedroom was welcome sight, already he could feel his body anticipating the moment when he would settle into the bed underneath the blanket.

However, before that could happen there was the matter of dealing with the body currently resting in the chair, nearest to the window of his bedroom. He approached the chair silently, watching the rise and fall of her chest. Kneeling in front of her, he placed a hand upon her shoulder. Eowyn woke with a start, instinctively pulling the covers further around her upper body to mask her nightgown. He gave her a reassuring smile, disarming her alarm immediately. "Still here, ma'am?" He whispered. "Are you well?"

Eowyn nodded her head. "I'm alright, just overslept is all, waiting for news. Did you find Theodred?"

"Aye, we fetched the prince back from the Orc. You should've seen Eomer, you'd been very proud of your brother." Eowyn felt a stab of envy hit her square in the chest. She could imagine herself in her brother's place, sword held high on the promise of victory on the battlefield.  _If only_ , she thought bitterly. If Boromir noticed her discontent, he chose not to comment on it. Instead, he gave her shoulder another gentle squeeze. "Come on then, let's go see your cousin."


	96. Working hands

**Title:**  Working hands

**Summary:**  A fourteen-year-old Eowyn notices something about Boromir.

**Prompt:**  96 "Habit"

**Word Count:**  169

* * *

The first time Eowyn notices it, his gloves have been discarded. His hands are rough and aged with use, even at thirty-two years. Calluses dominate the pads of his fingers and the palm of his hand where the hilt of his sword would typically rest. There's a certain way his fingers position themselves when he scratches or messages his temple that makes her eyebrow quirk, but it's his fingernails she notices the most. It's a sign of a nervous habit she recognizes anywhere and it makes her smile.

His nails are short, almost bitten to the quick. She wonders what he has to be nervous about when Idis strolls into the practice yard. Boromir flexes his hand before making a fist, he stands upright upon noticing her presence and dusts himself off. All smiles, Idis walks up to him and kisses his cheek. They speak for a total of five minutes, then, with one last kiss, Idis continues on her way. Boromir doesn't wait until she's gone before he starts to chew on his right hand's fingernails.


	97. The Case of the Missing Shoe

**Title:**  The Case of the Missing Shoe

**Summary:**  A forgetful Eowyn enlists Boromir's help to find her shoe.

**Prompt: 97 "Shoe"**

**Word Count:**  135

* * *

"You sure this is where it was last?" Boromir asked, ducking under the bed. Eowyn nodded as she walked around in a half-circle, hands on her back. Boromir twitched his nose, his eyes roamed the small environment covered in dust and saw no trace of it. Crawling out from under the bed, Boromir prepared to give her the bad news when he saw it. Eowyn's missing shoe resided on an empty chair sitting against the wall below the windowsill right behind her.

It takes a moment, but Eowyn notices it as well and hides her face in her hands as she begins to laugh. The tips of her ears turn red, he chuckles at her reaction. Peeking from behind her fingers she watches as Boromir retrieves the shoe from off the chair. "I believe I've found your shoe," He remarked.

Eowyn took the shoe from his possession, a humble smile gracing her lips. "Thank you, kind sir."


	98. Green for Grey

**Title:**  Green for Grey

**Summary:**  Boromir's green eyes surprise Eowyn.

**Prompt:**  98 "Green"

**Word Count: 179**

* * *

Eowyn found him lying on the ground, arms tucked behind his head and his legs spread open. The sun was shining and the air was cool, yet this was the last place she expected to find him. In fact, Eowyn had labored under the impression that he'd gone on patrol with Eomer and Theodred. His eyes moved rapidly under his eyelids, he moves a little - completely unaware of her approaching presence. It isn't until she sets next to him that he opens his eyes.

In the full sunlight, Boromir's green eyes are revealed to her. She smiled down at him, ignoring the confusion in his sleepy expression. "Your eyes are green."

"Eh?"

"You have green eyes," She repeated. "I thought they were gray." Though he didn't answer right away, Boromir hardly seemed put off or amused by the question. One could say he'd heard such a statement many times before in Gondor that he'd become immune to the awe typically attached to the compliment. "They used to be gray when I was a baby," He said. "According to my uncle, anyways."

"Were they?" Eowyn inquired.

"They were. Father likes to tell me they never changed, however. They were always green."


	99. Inspiration

**Title:**  Inspiration

**Summary:**  Eowyn is suffering from a bit of writer's block and needs help.

**Prompt:**  99 "Frivolity"

**Word Count: 264**

* * *

"What's another word for carefree, I wonder?" When she says this, she's speaking to herself, twirling the quill around in her fingers. Eowyn didn't expect Boromir to appear beside her, as if from nowhere, and drape his arms around her neck. He stared down at the parchment with mild interest as he stifled a yawn. "To whom would you be writing to?" He inquired. Eowyn shrugged her shoulders, unable to ignore the burning of her cheeks as Boromir scanned the second paragraph where she stopped writing.

"Hmm," Boromir hummed. "Another story for the children?" Eowyn scooted over so that he could sit next to her, Boromir wrapped one arm around her waist and joined her on the bench. "Do you think they'll like it?" Eowyn asked.

"They'll love it, Eowyn," He said. "Assuming you finish it, of course."

"I'll finish it, not to worry. I just need..." She huffed in frustration. "What's another word for carefree?"

"Erm, frivolity, perhaps?" He suggested.

Eowyn shook her head. "No, that's another word for silly," She paused, pouting her lips. "Relaxed, maybe?"

Boromir nodded with slight uncertainty. "It could work."

Eowyn smiled at the wrinkle in his brow and unconscious motion of his arm, hand stroking his chin in contemplation. She halted his hand by grabbing his wrist, she pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. "Perhaps a better word would come to me with a little… inspiration?" Eowyn suggested innocently, glancing toward the bed.

Boromir stared at her in momentary surprise, a surprise that was slowly worn away with a sly smile of his own. "Lock the door and we'll see," He smiled.


	100. Words Spoken, They Mean nothing

**Title:**  Words Spoken, They Mean nothing

**Summary:**  Eowyn is frustrated when Boromir fails to react to something.

**Prompt** : 100 "Idis"

**Word Count: 244**

* * *

Boromir was feeling rather flattered by the passion of her concern, perhaps moreso than he truly should've. Eowyn had come to him in a hurry, pulling him away from Theodred and Eomer's training session long enough to express what she had overheard in the Golden Hall. "They're incorrigible!" She cried, folding her arms across her chest. "They speak of you all as if you were game to be caught! A-and Idis just encourages them, like she always does!" Eowyn paused to regard his expression, which to her dismay was more amused than disgusted. "Does this not offend you, my Lord?"

"Not really, your ladyship," Boromir replied. "I've heard it enough from the women in my city that I've learned to ignore it. They mean nothing by it, truly."

Eowyn could not help the incredulous look. "Mean nothing by it? Are you so naïve in regards to your status in life, sir? Do you truly believe a woman who speaks as poorly as they have do not have an agenda?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. I simply mean to say that for some, it's just talk. Most of the women who have perhaps fantasized or gossiped about me, our brothers or your cousin will never get a chance to act upon their words. Most never want to," Boromir replied. "It maters not because I'm not interested in them, I doubt father would find them suitable bearers for marriage. Do you see what I mean?"

Eowyn nodded in response. "I suppose, but I still do not like to hear them speak of you that way," She said.

"I would not expect you to, miss," Boromir remarked, grinning. "The concern is appreciated, however."

Eowyn studied the amusement in his expression, unsure if he was teasing her for overreacting to a commonplace occurrence for him and many others, or was truly touched by her concerns. When he saw her doubt, he said, "I honestly am grateful for the concern, your ladyship. Truly, I am."

"I believe you," She said after a moment. "If only because you included your brother."

The full blown laugh that escaped Boromir startled the both of them, and also attracted the attention of Eomer and Theodred.

"What exactly is so funny, Boromir?" Eomer inquired, trailing alongside Theodred. Boromir stifled his laughter long enough to shake his head in a dismissive manner. "'Tis nothing, friend," He said. "Eowyn was simply educating me in the ways of feminine gossip. Weren't you, m'lady?"

Eowyn nodded curtly. "Yes, yes, I was."

* * *

**(FIN)**

* * *

**Authors Note I:**  After decidedly long period not updating this and realizing that these last few drabbles were just sitting idol in a folder, I've finally decided to complete this story. It was a long time coming anyhow. This probably the first and only story I've written (or ever will write) with a total of 100 chapters and this is something I'm quite proud of, honestly. I hope you've enjoyed reading these little tales and thank you to everyone who's reviewed, browsed or read through them all. It's very much appreciated.

**Authors Note II (8/19/2012):**  As to inquiries as to why I won't write another Boromir/Eowyn story with a consistent continuity, the answer is pretty simple. I just don't want to. I don't have the inspiration or drive as this one was pretty hard enough to get through as it is after a certain point.


End file.
